


New Romantics

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, No Wincest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2019-09-06 12:31:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16832674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: Sequel to Wildest Dreams. Dean told y/n that she’d pick up the machete and rock salt again, but he’s surprised to see her at Harvelle’s Roadhouse less than a year later. She’s nervous to tell him and Sam the catalyst for her to start hunting again.~~~~~~“You’re in a hunter bar… with hunters.” I nod. “And you’re strapped.” He points the neck of his beer bottle at my Glock.“Yep.”He smirks. “You were supposed to call me when you got back in.”“I know. I’ve just been trying really hard to avoid this conversation.” I say, honestly. It’s a talk I’ve rehearsed a million times in my head, but no amount of rehearsal could prepare me for. It’s definitely not one to have in a bar full of hunters itching to destroy anything less than, or more than, human. “Can we… talk in private?”Dean nods, the smile dropping off of his face. He looks back at his brother. “You want me to-” His words fade as I nod. Sam should hear, too. “Sam! Kinky Boots needs to talk to us.” Dean yells across the bar and I hop off the pool table, striding toward the door.





	1. Strapped

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wildest Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15965519) by [CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil). 



**Story Warnings** : Smut, **18+** **HERE BE SEX, DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!,** anal sex, oral sex (fem and male receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, bloodplay, canon-appropriate character deaths, manipulation, **_BoyKing!Sam and Intended Queen!Reader!_**

 **Chapter Warnings:** talk of wet dreams, unprotected vaginal sex, a bit of BoyKing!Sam

* * *

I’m having a heated discussion with Ash about thermodynamics when they walk into the roadhouse. Part of me, a mammoth part of me, wants to hide as they head for the bar. This isn’t like the last time the Winchesters walked into a bar I frequent. There’s no excitement, no anticipation of fun or pleasure. There’s just fear, apprehension, just a reminder of what the hell I’m doing back in a hunter bar with a pistol strapped to my thigh in the first place.

I wave Ash off as Dean starts flirting with Jo. Jo’s receptive, of course, but she resists because Ellen has taught her about men like Dean. Hunters and womanizers, men to avoid, so Jo bites out something sarcastic and disappears into the roadhouse’s back room. Dean takes a drink of his beer and swivels the bar stool around to survey the occupants of the bar.

There’s a few of us in here tonight. I might have been able to disappear if he hadn’t looked at the pool table first. His eyes light up when he sees me, sitting on the edge of Ash’s green felt cot, and he drops his bowed legs off the crossbeam of the stool, sauntering over to me. “Y/n!”

I swallow. “Dean.”

“You’re in a hunter bar… with hunters.” I nod. “And you’re strapped.” He points the neck of his beer bottle at my Glock.

“Yep.”

He smirks. “You were supposed to call me when you got back in.”

“I know. I’ve just been trying really hard to avoid this conversation.” I say, honestly. It’s a talk I’ve rehearsed a million times in my head, but no amount of rehearsal could prepare me for. It’s definitely not one to have in a bar full of hunters itching to destroy anything less than, or more than, human. “Can we… talk in private?”

Dean nods, the smile dropping off of his face. He looks back at his brother. “You want me to-” His words fade as I nod. Sam should hear, too. “Sam! Kinky Boots needs to talk to us.” Dean yells across the bar and I hop off the pool table, striding toward the door.

I lead them away from the roadhouse, to where I’ve parked my dark blue Chevy Colorado. I pull the tailgate down and hop up to sit on it before I even look at Sam. “Hey, Sam.”

“Y/n. You’re hunting again?”

“Dean was right. Said I’d come back to it, someday. Someday, I’d see something in the news that I couldn’t ignore.” I swallow, my stomach twisting and throat dry. “My someday was the day Bobby Singer sent me the news clipping about your dad’s death. Said it was a complication from a car accident, but it wasn’t, was it?” Dean’s jaw tightens and he looks away from me. “He sold his soul to the yellow-eyed demon to save you, didn’t he?”

“How do you know that?” Sam asks. “Did Bobby tell you that?”

I shake my head. “I dreamed it… that night… night after we… a week before it happened.” Sam’s eyes widen but Dean’s narrow. “And every night after until…”

“You’re having premonitions?” Sam asks. I nod. Dean lets out an almost angry breath and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wait. What… did something happen to your mom? When you were a baby? Like six months old?”

I nod. “ _Exactly_ six months old. Fire destroyed the whole house. Only my dad and I got out. Apparently, Dad got crazy paranoid after, thought we were being followed, being watched, always different people that he was sure was the same man. Most people woulda ended up in a nuthouse, but my dad… somehow, he ended up in Blue Earth. Fate put him in front of Pastor Jim, who saw that Dad wasn’t crazy, taught him everything he knew about monsters and demons.”

“Wait. What year were you born? ‘Cause the others we’ve met, they were all born in '83.” Sam asks.

“What others?” I ask, trying to ignore the fact that I’m most definitely caught in a major lie.

“Other kids the yellow-eyed demon messed with!” Dean growls. “Other jerks with powers. Like mind control, and telekinesis, and fuckin’ _premonitions_! So, when were you born?”

I take a deep breath. “Well, the birth certificate I’ve been using since Dad enrolled me in school says '81, but…”

“But you were born in '83.” Sam finishes for me. “So, you were off hunting by yourself at seventeen, not nineteen.”

“Not if you ask my dad. I always told him I was with Bobby or Pastor Jim.”

“I think the question was more, 'You were _Jailbait_ the first time our dad met you?’” Dean spits out. “And how did he not put together the similarities between your mom and ours?”

“Well, I wasn’t Jailbait when we acted on it. I was twenty-two when we acted on it, when we _all_ acted on it. And he didn’t put it together because I didn’t tell him.” I take a deep breath. “I _couldn’t_.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Dean demands.

“The night I met John up in Snoqualmie, I dreamed of him. It was the first, you know, hardcore wet dream I can remember having, and halfway through, his eyes went yellow. This sickly, terrible yellow. He told me not to tell John how I got into the game, just tell him how much I long to be out of it. So, when we were having our post-hunt bourbon on the hood of the Impala and John started to tell his story of the fire in Sam’s nursery… I could only think of those sickly yellow eyes and I couldn’t say anything.”

“So, Yellow-Eyes has been fuckin’ with your head for _at least_ six years.” Dean growls.

I nod, biting my lip. “Yeah. When you put it that way…” I catch Sam’s eyes. He looks hurt by the way Dean’s reacting. “I’ve dreamed of him a couple times, lately. Warning of the coming war. Said we’re gonna be soldiers.”

“Really?” Dean literally spits as he says the word.

I pull my Glock from my thigh holster and present it to him. “You think I’m gonna turn, you think I’m a liability, you go ahead and put one between my eyes, Dean. But if you don’t have the balls to do it for Sam, too, shut the fuck up.” I snarl. Dean’s shoulders slump and he looks away from the gun. “What I thought. Now, I, obviously, have no intention of being a soldier for that yellow-eyed prick. It’s part of why I picked up the rock salt again, to show him I’m not his fucking puppet.”

I strap my gun back to my leg. “Now, I didn’t need to tell you any of this, okay? I could’ve just kept pretending that I didn’t know shit about Yellow-Eyes, that I wasn’t having this shit in my dreams, but I didn’t want to lie to you guys.” I swallow again. I wish I’d brought my beer out with me. “I dreamed that… that Sam was the only one who’d understand.”

Dean chuckles. “That’s rich. So, ol’ Yellow-Eyes is tryin’ to get you with Sam? That’s great. Where do _I_ sign up for a Demon Dating Service?” He rolls his eyes and I shake my head.

“This was a mistake. I should’ve known you’d treat it like-” I jump off of my tailgate and slam it closed. “You tell _anyone_ that I’m like Sam, I’ll kill you.”

Sam grabs me as I go to open my drivers side door. “Don’t go. I… I _do_ understand, but Dean can’t, okay?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “What, you got a renewed hard on for her because she’s a-” Dean cuts himself off and Sam turns to glare at him. I study his face and blink at him, something clicking as my mind blanks out.

“She’s a what, Dean?”

“A freak.” It comes out of my mouth but it’s Dean’s words, Dean’s thought, Dean’s voice. “Unnatural. An evil, demonic creature that I can’t believe I put my dick in. Sammy, you don’t even know how scared I am for you and for you to be shacking up with this bitch, especially when the demon _wants_ that? I’m fuckin’ terrified.”

I blink hard and look away. “Not really hurting his argument, am I?” I breathe out and shake my head. “Look, he’s right. If the demon wants us together, we probably shouldn’t be.”

“But I… at least give me your number, or call me if you have any more dreams or anything.” I look in Sam’s eyes and words tumble into my brain. **Perfect. Lovely. Want you. Just like me _._** An image accompanies the words, a perfectly clear memory of me riding his cock in the back of the Impala. I give a small, breathy moan and he smiles, knowing that I can see what he’s thinking of. A new image pushes into my head, not a memory, not fully-formed, fuzzy around the edges because it’s a mental fabrication, a fantasy of him plowing into me, his cock stretching me open as his hands grip my hips tightly.

I lean forward, pressing my lips to his and sending a perfect image of my cell phone number into his head, before turning and climbing into the cab of my truck. I haven’t even made it a half a mile before my phone is buzzing. _**He’ll come around.**_

_**Unlikely. I’ve seen his mind. He kinda hates me right now.** _

_**But he was wet dreaming about you a week ago.  
He’ll get over this.** _

_**Hope so.** _

_**Look Dean and I are going to be staying in Norfolk tonight. You should get a room we need to talk more** _

_**Talk?** _

_**among other things  
please?** _

_**ok** _

I pull into Norfolk way ahead of them. They didn’t leave the roadhouse until half hour after me, according to Sam, so they pull into the motel an hour after me. I hid my truck a block away so Dean wouldn’t clock my presence immediately and I texted Sam my room number. I kick off my steel-toed boots into the corner and I wait for him with a bottle of bourbon and the television that only gets ten channels. It’s 2:36 according to the clock on the side table when a knock comes to my door. I open it and Sam smiles at me.

“Hey.”

“Dean asleep?” I ask.

He nods. “Downed a fifth of Jim as soon as we walked into the room.” He steps into my room and pushes past me. I close the door and lean against it as he flops down on my bed. “I just… haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, about the connection we’ve got-”

“ _Manufactured_ connection. The demon has something planned, Sam. Dean… he’s being a prick, but he’s right. Yellow-Eyes sent me to you, so we shouldn’t be together. Right?” I want him to say 'no’. Everything in me is hoping that he’ll grab me and pull me to the bed and fuck me silly. The part of me that’s speaking, I don’t even know what part of me that is.

“I think… I think, though, that we _are_ the only ones who can understand what the other is going through. Dad thought… Dean and-and Gordon, they both think I’m going to turn evil, that you’re going to-” Sam shakes his head and stands. “We’re not evil. We fight evil. Whatever plan the demon has for us, we don’t have to-”

“But if he plans for us to…” I swallow as he leans over me, lips close enough to mine for me to feel the heat of his breath. “We shouldn’t, then.” I whisper, looking into his eyes.

“But we both want it.” Sam’s lips press into mine and it’s electric. It’s more than just passion and lust like last time. It’s like a bond being solidified on our lips. I wrap my arms around his neck and he grabs my thighs, picking me up to wrap my legs around his waist. His lips leave mine and he attaches them to my neck as he grinds his erection into me, pressing me into the door as I moan. **Thought I was dreaming of you because of that night in Keystone… but we’re supposed to be together.**

“Sam!” I exclaim as he rips my polyester camisole down the middle.

“Get you another one.” He promises against my skin as he pulls the cups of my bra down and licks at my nipples. **You should get your pants off, though. These are nice jeans and I wouldn’t wanna ruin 'em.**

I drop my legs from his waist and fumble with the button and the fly of my jeans as he cups the breast he doesn’t have in his mouth. The denim of my pants and the cotton of my underwear pool at my feet and Sam moves his mouth back to my neck as he starts working his belt and the opening of his jeans. He doesn’t tease me. He doesn’t prep me. He just gets his jeans and boxers down far enough to release his cock, and God I forgot how big he really is, and push the head of it into my entrance. I jump back up, wrapping my legs around his waist, and he growls as he rams halfway into me. “So perfect, fuckin’ wet as hell for me.” He pulls his hips back and slams them forward and my head bounces off of the wood of the door, but I don’t care. The pain in my head is nothing compared to the pain of the stretch in between my legs. He fucks me against the door, pulling loud whiny moans out of me and rattling the hinges for several minutes until he lifts me off the door and twists us, dropping to the bed.

“Sam… God, Sam. Right there!” I gasp out as our new position has him hitting my g-spot with every stroke. My pussy clenches tight around him every time he hits it and his mind becomes a dazed mess of pleasure. **Gonna cum inside you.** “Yes, Sam, please.” I moan. He stutters his pace and growls, low in his chest, as he cums. He pulls out and drops to the bed next to me, breathing heavily.

I sit up, pull my ruined tank top off and use it to wipe between my legs, where his semen is already dripping out of me. I hand the dry part of the shirt to him and he wipes off his dick before tossing it at the little trashcan next to the bathroom. He pulled his pants back on and I rolled half off of the bed to grab a large shirt from my duffel that I’ve used as a nightgown for five years. Sam situates himself on the bed, his head on the pillow and he pulls me to lay on his chest with his right arm wrapped around me. **You’re perfect.**

“I like hearing your thoughts, Sam. They’re so complimentary.” I admit. “Some of the nicest shit I’ve ever heard about myself is coming out of your head tonight.”

“I’m only aware of a few things I’ve thought tonight. Most of it’s hazed out.”

“Sam…” I sigh. “What are we doing?”

“Lying in the afterglow of a quickie for a few minutes before I have to go back to my own room?”

“We were supposed to talk, weren’t we?”

Sam sighs, holding me closer to his side. “Talk about what? How we shouldn’t do this? Or maybe how we can prevent ourselves from becoming evil?” **Maybe how Dad told Dean that he would have to kill me if he couldn’t save me? Which probably means he should do the same to you.**

“Dean’s not gonna kill either of us. He’d kill me before he killed you, but I don’t think he really has it in him to kill either of us.” I sit up enough to look into Sam’s eyes and kiss his cheek. “We’re not evil. We’re never gonna _be_ evil.”

Sam leans down and kisses me. “Wish I could stay, but-”

“I know. I’m headed back to Keystone, but I need you to keep in touch, okay?”

“Of course. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

“Okay, Sam.” I sit up so he can get out of bed and smile up at him when he stands.

“Any dreams you have… I wanna hear 'em.”

“Same for you, Stanford.”

That stops him with his hand on the doorknob. “Why didn’t _you_ go?”

“Where?” I ask, confused.

“To college.” His eyebrows are furrowed as he turns to look back at me. “You went to school way early, graduated early. You’ve gotta be incredibly intelligent.”

“I _am_. Graduated Valedictorian of a high school I’d only been at for three weeks. There were some IB nerds who were really upset about that.” I shake my head. “But I didn’t want college, Sam. I wanted to kill things.”

“Say it like that makes you sound like a psycho.”

I lean forward on the bed. “Don’t you feel like a psycho, sometimes, Sam? All that anger you’ve got just below the surface? And it doesn’t go away, not ever, but hunting… normalizes that feeling a little, makes it okay.”

Sam sweeps forward, grabbing my head and pulling me up into a passionate kiss, our tongues curling around each other. He doesn’t have to tell me that the kiss is a reaction to my putting words to a feeling he hasn’t been able to vocalize for years. “You’re amazing.” He whispers against my lips, before pulling away and rushing out of the room.


	2. Relaxation and Regret

**Chapter Warnings:** unprotected vaginal sex, BoyKing!Sam, oral sex (fem and male rec), canon-appropriate character deaths ( _All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1_ ), manipulation

* * *

Sam and I texted every day for weeks until it just stopped. Word on the hunter grapevine says Dean’s been frantically looking for him for almost a week when he knocks on my door. He’s trying to look angry, intimidating, as he stands on my porch, but I can feel the panic and fear wafting off of him. “Yeah?” I lean against my doorjamb, don’t invite him in.

“Is Sam here?”

“No.” I want to close the door on him, but I don’t. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he tries to literally swallow his worry. “You lose him?”

Dean’s jaw clenches, his lips pulling tightly together. “I didn’t _lose_ him, I- when’s the last time you saw him?”

“Last time I saw _you_.” I lie. “Harvelle’s place.”

“Bullshit. He snuck off to see you that _night_ , y/n, and I know you were texting each other right up to the day he disappeared, at least.”

I can feel the pain behind his snarling words so I sigh and push off from the doorjamb. “You haven’t really slept since he’s been gone. Come have a coffee.” I walk back toward my kitchen and he stands on my porch for a few moments, debating whether he wants to take my offer. The door closes behind him as I pour coffee into a second mug. Dean sits at my table, leaning heavily on his elbows. I set a mug in front of him and offer him my flask as I sit across from him. He eyes it for a minute before wrapping his fingers around it with a nod. “You’re scared.”

“Yeah.” He admits as he pours half of my flask into his mug.

“It’s okay to be scared.”

He scoffs and blinks tired eyes at me. “I’m scared all the time lately. What Dad said, what the demon’s got planned, what might happen to Sammy and you, I’m scared of all that. But not knowing where Sam even is?” He shakes his head and brings the flask up to his lips. “I’m terrified.” He gulps down what’s left of the whiskey and I’m not even mad about it.

“You need to relax, Dean.” I get a flash of a memory of him caressing my back as he watched his father fuck me and his brother finger my ass, Dean telling me to relax. “That’s not the kinda ‘relax’ I was talking about.” I tease with a smile.

“I really hate it that you can get in my head like that.” He glowers at me. He twists the top back on my flask and sets it on the table. He looks over at me. “That’s gettin’ stronger, ain’t it?”

I nod. “It scares me, too, Dean.”

He looks down at his mug. “So, how were you thinking we’d relax?”

“Well, whiskey’s always a good start, but I was thinking more along the lines of shower in a shower with amazing water pressure, a good night’s sleep in a bed with no mystery stains, and a breakfast of all your faves.”

Dean lets out a little scoffing laugh and shakes his head. “That sounds awesome. I’ll even forgive the fact that you know all my favorites because you stole it from my brain.”

I smile and pat his arm. “Let me go hit the linen closet and get you set up for a shower.”

Dean grabs my arm as I walk past him. “Thank you.” He looks up into my eyes and all the anger and the bravado and the thoughts of me being a freak… they’re all gone. I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.

“Any time.” I respond before going out to grab my two fluffiest towels and placing them on the bathroom counter. By the time I’ve finished clearing out my shower and setting out my least girly-smelling shampoo and body wash, Dean’s done drinking his coffee and he’s watching me. “My water heater is huge, so you can get a good hour out of it, as long as you don’t have it scalding.”

“Thanks… again.” **Maybe you’re not so bad.**

“No, I’m not. Enjoy yourself, Dean.” He stares at my ass as I walk out of the bathroom and close the door. I’m lying on my bed, listening to him hum ’ _Nothing Else Matters_ ’ loud enough that I can hear him over the spray of the water, when images start invading my head. I’ve never seen the thoughts of someone who I wasn’t looking at, but I know that these pictures of me down on my knees in front of him in my shower, his cock bulging my throat slightly, are coming from Dean in the next room. The humming has become grunting and I can just imagine him in my shower, water spraying down his back as he leans his forehead against the tile wall furiously pumping his fist up and down his length… and he’s imagining me. “Fuck.” I whisper.

I want to touch myself. I want to rub my way to orgasm, but I’m too enamored with the sounds he’s making and the visions he’s putting in my head. The image has shifted and now he’s fucking me against the wall of my shower and I’m clinging to him for dear life. I sit up and take a deep breath, trying to will away the heat and tingling and the absolutely terrible feeling of longing suddenly threatening to burn me up from the inside. “You comin’, or not?!” Dean yells from the bathroom.

I’m breathing heavily as I open the door to the bathroom and slip inside. He’s looking at me through the steamed-up glass of my shower door, his hand wrapped around the base of his cock. “A couple weeks ago, you were calling me a freak, said you couldn’t believe you stuck your dick in me.”

“No. _You_ said that. I just thought it.” He says and my eyes drop to his cock as he twists the knob to turn the water off. “You wanna help me relax, y/n?” He licks his lips as he steps out of the shower and wraps one of the towels around his shoulders, using one of the ends to dry his hair. He crowds me a little, stepping closer to me. “You wanna help me relax?” He repeats, but his voice has gone lower.

I swallow. “Anything I can do to help, Dean.” I respond.

“Well you can help by getting on your knees for me, Kinky Boots.”

I do as I’m told with barely a thought. I don’t think about Sam or the demon, I don’t think about the hate that he felt for me until he walked into my house. I just think about making him feel better. I wrap my hands around the base of him, fingers settling in the patch of wet hair, and I take him into my mouth. He twists his right hand into my hair and I look up, his cockhead settled just before the opening of my throat, and I can see his jaw hanging open, his eyes closed in rapture. I fucking love it.

I go to work, licking and sucking at the head, caressing his balls with one hand as the other pumps him roughly. He starts praising me, telling me how awesome I am at taking his cock and how he’s dreamed of my mouth and imagined how my cunt must feel. I pull back with a wet pop and look up at him. “I’m right here, Dean. You don’t have to imagine.” The hand in my hair pulls me to my feet and he slams his lips against mine, pushing me backward into my bedroom to fall onto my bed. He drops between my legs and licks at my labia, revving me up before pushing two fingers into my pussy while his lips suck onto my clit. “Fuck, Dean.” I whine and he hums against my clit, fingers pumping in and out of me. It doesn’t take long for me to be wet enough for him to take me easily and he lays his body over mine, sliding in slowly like he wants to relish the feel of every inch.

“You feel fuckin’ amazing.” He whispers into my ear as he pushes in that final inch.

“So good, Dean. So fuckin’ big and-” He interrupts me by pulling his hips back and slamming them forward. “'kay, I’ll shut up.” I whisper.

“Just want to hear you moan. Maybe a few 'oh, god’s.” He grunts as he starts up a hard, fast pace, forcing my headboard to thunk into the wall over and over. He pulls moan after moan out of me and I don’t have to _try_ to give him what he wants, what he _needs_ to relax from probably the worst week of his life. “You… God, woman. You’re so fuckin’… Jesus. I’m gonna… fuck, can I cum inside you?”

“Uh-huh.” I nod. “Still on the pill.” His hips stutter and his cock twitches inside me as he fucks himself through his orgasm with a growl.

He pulls out and drops to the bed next to me and I lean over and clean his cock with my mouth, enjoying the salty-sour taste of my pussy and his cum. He groans, then moves to lay his head on my pillow and licks his lips. “We didn’t even ask you last time, did we?”

I shake my head. “Nope. I assume it’s because you usually ganged up on prostitutes.”

“We wouldn’t have gone raw into a whore. We’re not stupid.” Dean says, his voice tired. “We trusted you, though.”

“Still do, if the wet spot between my legs means anything.” I say and he chuckles as I stand. “Get some rest, Dean. Things’ll be better once you’ve had a good night’s sleep.” I started toward the bathroom to pee and clean myself up. **Sammy cum in you, too?** He asks as I walk through the door. “Yeah, he did. He didn’t ask, though. Just said he was gonna do it, then he did.” By the time I get out of the bathroom, Dean’s asleep, face-down in my pillow and he looks peaceful, so I’m very careful as I slip under the comforter next to him and slot my body against his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wake to his arm wrapped around my middle, his hand groping my breast, his lips on my neck. “Dean.”

“Can I…” **Wanna fuck you again.** He grinds his morning erection against the swell of my ass and I whine. **Let me fuck you again.** I nod, heat flushing through me as he pulls my body up a bit and swivels his hips, the head of his cock slipping into my entrance. I moan and spread my legs wider to allow him better access to my cunt. **You better cum this time.** I reach between my legs, running my fingers over my clit as he grabs my hip and starts pounding into me as hard as he can. “Makes a guy feel inadequate when a girl doesn’t cum.”

“Makes _you_ feel inadequate.” I gasp as he scrapes his teeth across my shoulder. “Most guys don’t care.”

“Don’t fuck doucebags, then.” He coaches. “You’re so fuckin’ close, aren’t you? Gettin’ so fuckin’ wet.” He reaches up to twist my nipple and I nod.

“So close.” I gasp.

“Then fuckin’ cum, baby.” He demands and something in his tone makes me clench and the next thrust pushes me over. He follows as I clench hard around his cock, giving that almost growling grunt that I’ve come to associate with the Winchester boys’ climaxes. He kisses my neck and shoulder as he waits for my cunt to stop milking his cock. “You’re too fuckin’ amazing to be fuckin’ guys that don’t know how to take care of you.” He says when he pulls away.

I smile and roll out of bed. “Thought the plan was to take care of you, Dean. Bacon?”

“Sex and bacon. Add some pie and my Baby into the mix and that’s, like, _all_ of my favorite things.” He says, moving to put on his jeans as I grab my satin robe and slip it on.

We sit and eat in comfortable silence for a while before he clears his throat. “I’m sorry I was such an asshole at the Roadhouse. I know that admitting all that stuff was probably pretty hard for you.”

I shrug. “I probably would act the same if I were on the other side of it, to be honest. We’re hunters. The things I can do… _I’d_ hunt me.”

“You’re understanding as fuck, you know that?”

“I’m smart, Dean. I have higher-level intelligence and I grew up in the life. Aside from Ash, I’m probably the smartest hunter in America. I am predisposed to being understanding as fuck.” I stand and walk to my fridge. “You gonna go find Sam, now?”

“Probably. I’m not as tense as I’ve been recently so maybe I can think through how to find him.” Dean sets his empty plate in the sink and runs water over it.

“Something for the road.” I turn and hand him a pie tin covered with paper towels and he smiles, brightly. He lifts the paper and his eyes light up at the vision of a half-eaten apple pie. “You’d be saving me from it. I don’t really need to eat the rest of that, and if it stays here, I totally will.”

“I’d gladly save you, princess.” He smirks and replaces the covering. “Thank you. For all this. For…” **You’re fucking awesome.**

I chuckle. “Yeah, I am. Now, go find Sam.” I push him toward my front door and he goes easily. “Call me when you track him down.”

“I will. Hey.” He puts the pie in his left hand and wraps his right arm around me. He kisses the top of my head and squeezes me. “Thank you.”

“Go.” I insist, with a smile. Dean waves as he gets into the Impala.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He got his dumb ass possessed.” Dean explains a few days later.

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. So, if he shows up-”

“I gotcha. There’s a Devil’s Trap in the foundation of my house. If it shows up here, it’s not going anywhere.”

There’s silence on the other side of the phone for a minute. “Really? You’ve got a-”

“What, Jim never taught you preparedness?” I say, smirking.

“Yeah, but the foundation?”

“When I first bought to place I needed to do some reno… it was a half hour with some spray paint, well worth the time.”

**She’s so awesome, I think I’m in love.**

I pull my phone away from my ear and blink at it. “What did you say?”

“Nothin’. Why? Did you… what’d you hear?”

I shake my head. “Must’ve been the TV. I’ll call if Sam shows.” I say, before hanging up. I shake my head and move to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of bourbon. I imagined it. I had to have imagined it. There was no fucking way that I heard his thoughts through the phone.

No. I’m not that strong. It can’t have gotten that strong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam started texting me as soon as he got his body back and he updated me about his life as time went. A trickster god at Springfield University, a roadside ghost in Nevada, a werewolf in San Francisco (which he was vague about to hide the fact that he’d fucked the monster… like I couldn’t fucking hear him thinking about her), a ghost on a horror movie set in L. A., another ghost in a prison in Little Rock (which meant he couldn’t tell me about it until after he got out of prison), and then what they were sure was a djinn in Joliet, Illinois.

I fall out in a motel room in New Hampshire, and I wake up in decrepit wooden shack. I feel like I should have a massive hangover, based upon my waking up somewhere I didn’t fall asleep, but there’s nothing. Just a feeling of fear and anxiety, every instinct telling me that I am in danger. I hear a male voice yelling 'Hello?! Anybody there?’ and it prompts me to leave the shack. I move silently until I hear a familiar voice calling back. 'Hey, you guys all right?’ It’s Sam. I run to him until I see him in a group. He’s speaking to a man in BDUs and a blond woman in a heavy jacket. He’s got a big-eyed brunette woman and a scruffy-looking man behind him.

“It started a little over a year ago? You found you could do things? Things you didn’t think were possible?” The soldier and the blond nod as I approach slowly. “I have visions. I see things before they happen.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” The brunette woman says.

“Me, three.” I speak up, causing Sam’s eyes to snap to me.

“Y/n!”

I smile at him and bite my lip. “I also read minds… and I’ve… been known to move things.”

“That’s new.” Sam says.

I nod. “While you were in Green River Correctional.”

“Uh, I can put thoughts into people’s heads, like make 'em do stuff.” The scruffy guy seems excited about his ability as he steps up onto the porch the soldier and the blond are on. “But don’t worry, it, I don’t think it works on you guys. Oh, but get this… I’ve been practicing. Training my brain, like meditation. So now, it’s not just thoughts I can beam out, but images, too. Like, anything I want. Bam! People, they see it. This one guy I know, total dick, right? I used it on him: gay porn. All hours of the day.” Scruffy laughs. “It was just like… you should have seen the look on his face.”

I chuckle. No one else does, but I think it’s funny. Sam gives me a look as Scruffy steps down and the blond turns an angry look on us. “So, you go, 'Simon Says give me your wallet’ and they do?” Scruffy nods slightly as she turns her angry eyes on Sam. “You have visions? That’s great! I’d kill for something like that.”

“Lily, listen, it’s okay-” Sam starts. Guess the blond is Lily.

“No. It’s not. I touch people… their hearts stop. I can barely leave my house. My life’s not exactly improved. So, screw you. I just wanna go home.” She starts to turn away stomping off toward the other end of the building, but the soldier, 'Talley’ according to his uniform, turns to her.

“And what, we don’t?”

“You know what, don’t talk to me like that, not right-” Lily says, angrily.

Sam’s a peacemaker, always. “Hey, guys, please. Look, whether we like it or not, we’re all here, and so we all have to deal with this.”

“Who brought us here?” Scruffy asks.

“It’s less of a 'who’.” I say, hands going to my hips. “It’s… more of a 'what’.”

“What does that mean?” The brunette asks, looking to Sam for answers. She must know him. I don’t like her.

“It’s a…” Sam sighs a little. “It’s a demon.”

“A demon?” Talley asks.

“Yes. A demon. You hard of hearing, Army?” I snap. “We were brought here by a demon, one with yellow eyes. One who I know you’ve all dreamed about at least once.” I step closer to the group. “Told you a war was coming, that we were soldiers. Ringing bells?”

“So, we’re soldiers in a demon war to bring on the Apocalypse?” Talley shouts.

“When you put it like that-” Sam starts.

“And, and we’ve been picked?”

“Yes.” I answer.

“Why us?”

“I’m not sure, okay? But look, I just know-” He approaches the soldier but the brunette stops him.

“Sam. I’m sorry. Psychics and spoon-bending is one thing, but demons?” She whines. I really don’t like her.

“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but-”

“It doesn’t just _sound_ it.” Talley asserts.

“I don’t really care what you think, okay?” Sam finally has enough and I smile. “If we’re gathered here together, then that means it’s starting and that we’ve gotta-”

“The only thing I’ve gotta do is stay away from whackjobs, okay?” Talley steps down the stairs, eyes flicking between Sam and me. “I’ve heard enough. I’m better off on my own. FYI, so are you.” He looks at the brunette and Scruffy before turning away.

“Jake, hold on.” Sam says. “Jake!” He calls as the soldier ignores him and starts walking toward the center of town.

“Let him go, Sam. He obviously knows what’s going on here much better than us.” I say.

Sam turns an angry glare on me. “We need to stick together.”

I chuckle. “Come _on_. If there’s two people here that can get _out_ of here, it’s you and me, Sammy.”

“We’re gonna get us _all_ out of here.” Sam insists.

“I’m y/n, by the way. Since I missed out on the intros.”

“Ava.” The big-eyed one says. I wanna punch her. More than that, I want to rip her open. But I just nod at her as we start walking the way Jake disappeared.

“Andy.” Scruffy introduces himself.

“Lily.” But I already caught that one.

“Get back!” Jake’s voice calls us to a building about fifty yards north. Sam and I rush ahead, because that’s what hunters do, but Sam gets inside the door first, grabs an iron fire poker and swings it at the visage of a little girl. I hear gasps as she becomes a plume of black smoke and leaves the classroom.

Sam looks between Jake and the others. “Just so you know. That was a demon.”

“Probably an Acheri.” I say and Sam nods and starts to walk out, iron poker still in his hand.

“Yeah, I’m not sure, but I was thinking Acheri, too. A demon that disguises itself as a little girl. Still doesn’t tell us where we are.” He turns to look at the rest of the group, all in various states of shock, Andy being the worst. “Andy, are you with us?”

“Give me a minute. I’m still working through 'Demons are real’.”

These amateurs are gonna get us killed. “Sam.” I whisper. He shakes his head and walks away. He doesn’t want to hear what I’m thinking. Well, he doesn’t have a choice. **They’re gonna get us killed.**

**Not if we do our jobs and save them.**

I scoff. **I worry less about the job right now and more about our lives.**

Sam turns to me, grabbing my arm with his free hand and pulling me away from the group, slightly. Ava and Andy raise their eyebrows as Sam guides me. “What is your problem?”

“Mostly the fact that we’re _here_ … with a bunch of fuckin’ civilians who don’t know a damn thing about demons, who don’t know how to keep themselves out of harm’s way. That soldier walked right up to that Acheri like he wanted to shake its fucking hand! And something about Ava makes me want to pull her spine out through her anus.” I admit, quietly.

“You need to calm down. You need to breathe and remember our job. Save people. Save _these_ people.”

“Sam, I have the worst feeling about this.”

“You’re not the only one.” Sam admits. We start walking toward the middle of town again, where a large, rusty bell hangs under a wooden awning. “I’ve seen that bell before. I think I know where we are now. Cold Oak, South Dakota, a town so haunted, every single resident fled.”

“Swell. Good to know we’re somewhere so historical.” Ava chirps. I take a deep breath to fight back the urge to pop her in the face.

“Why in the world would that demon or whatever put us here?” Lily asks.

“I’m wondering the same thing.” Sam says.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. Clearly, the only sane thing to do here is get the hell out of Dodge.” Lily says, turning to walk away.

“Wait, hold on. Lily, the only way out is through miles of woods.” Sam stops her.

“Beats hanging out with demons.” I like this one.

“Lily, look, we don’t know what’s going on yet. I mean, we don’t even know how many of them are out there right now.” Sam says.

“Yeah, he’s right. We should-” Talley starts.

Lily turns on us. “Don’t say 'we’! I’m not part of 'we’. I have nothing in common with any of you.”

“Okay, look, I know-” Sam tries again.

“You don’t know anything! I tou-’ Lily shouts. "I accidentally touched my girlfriend.”

I look down. Everyone else does, too. “I’m sorry.” Sam says.

“Whatever. I feel like I’m in a nightmare, and it just keeps getting worse and worse.”

“I’ve lost people, too.” I immediately get a flash of John from Sam’s mind. “I have a brother out there right now. Could be dead for all I know. We’re all in bad shape. But I’m telling you, the best way out of this is to stick together.”

“Fine.” She says begrudgingly.

We start moving around town, looking for supplies. “We’re looking for iron, silver, salt, any kind of weapon.”

“Salt is a _weapon_?” Jake asks.

“It’s a brave new world.” Sam jumps up the steps to a house and the rest of us follow.

“Well, hopefully there’s food in your world, because I’m freakin’ starving.” Andy complains.

We look around the abandoned house. I ignore the fact that I can feel Sam and Ava flirting in the room two away from me and I open a drawer in the kitchen. A silver knife sits in the middle of the drawer like it was left there just for me. I pocket it. “You guys! I found something!” Andy yells excitedly. We congregate again and he smiles as he holds up two large bags. “Salt!”

“That’s great, Andy.” Sam says. “Now, we all can… where’s Lily?”

We find her hanging from the water tower just outside the building. Ava freaks out, but something about it seems so insincere. Sam says we need to gear up for the next attack and she says she can’t do that, that she’s not a soldier. I reach for the knife, something telling me to gut her, but I shake my head. It’s the demon. I don’t really hate this whiny little bitch, it’s just the demon’s influence.

“Well, if you wanna stay alive, you’re gonna have to. Let’s go.” Sam says, walking away as Jake volunteers to cut Lily down. Sam sighs. “You know, I was just thinking about how much Dean would help right now. I’d give my arm for a working phone.”

Andy’s face lights up. “You know, you may not need one. I’ve never tried it long distance before, but do you have anything of Dean’s on you? Like, something he touched?”

Sam goes to search his pockets, but comes up empty, so I pull out a Zippo lighter and present it to Andy. “It’s his.”

“Why do you have Dean’s lighter?” Sam asks.

I blink at him for a minute before pushing a memory into his head of Dean on my porch, asking if I’ve seen Sam. “When you disappeared.”

“What else happened when I disappeared?” Sam asks. Andy looks between me and Sam, then walks away muttering about images. Sam steps up to me. “You fuck him?” He pushes me into the side of the building with two strong hands on my shoulders. “You fuck my brother, y/n?”

“You fuck that werewolf?” I say, coolly, taking a nice deep breath as I look up into his eyes. “We’re not exclusive, Sam. We never have been.”

“You’re supposed to be with me.” He almost growls it, but I just shake my head.

“What, I’m supposed to be with you because Yellow Eyes says so, but you get to put your dick in whatever creature you want?”

“I didn’t know she was-”

“Sam, shut up. You wanna be pissed off about something you’ve got no right to be upset about, fine, but why don’t you hold off until we get out of this bullshit.” I push him back and he steps away without a complaint.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How are you enjoying your vacation, y/n?” My head snaps up to see the Yellow Eyed Demon looking down at me.

“Go away.”

He kneels down in front of me. “I’m here to help you get out of here, sweetheart, but if you don’t want the help…”

“You _brought_ me here.” I hiss. “You brought all of us here.”

“But _you_ get to leave. They don’t, but you do.”

I look around at the others. “Why do I get to go, but they don’t?”

“Because you were just here so I could see how you interact with _them_. You’re kinda my divining rod, sweetheart. So, here’s what you’re gonna do…” He whispers a plan in my ear and I wake to Jake shouting about Ava being gone, but I already knew she would be. Yellow Eyes told me to use her disappearance as a distraction and run. So, I do. The Acheri never appears to me. I make it to the road just in time to see Dean and Bobby walking up.

“Y/n!” Dean’s eyes light up. “Have you seen Sam?”

“Yeah, he’s back in the… it worked? Andy’s vision got through to you?”

“Yeah. You just left him back there?”

“I had an opportunity and I took it, Dean. I can lead you back there, though. Come on.” They follow me, calling out to Sam. When we see him, it’s all of ten seconds before Jake has stabbed him in the back. I stare, jaw dropped as Dean tries to convince Sam that everything’s okay. But it’s not. Sam’s mind slowly shuts down, nothing coming from his brain. As Dean’s panic gives way to anguish, there’s a background thought **her-fault-she-left-him-it’s-her-fault**. It’s rambling, he’s not even consciously thinking it, yet, but I know it’s coming. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Dean.” I whisper… and then I run.


	3. Blood and Blame

**hapter Warnings:** Alcohol as a crutch, depression, self-blame, Dean blaming reader for shit, BoyKing!Sam, manipulation, demon blood, being high on demon blood…

* * *

Bobby’s been calling me for days, leaving voicemails about the end of the world, but I can’t answer. I can’t return the calls. I can’t prepare for the end because I can’t stop seeing Dean in my head sobbing over Sam’s lifeless body. I can’t stop hearing **her-fault** in my head. I’ve crawled into a bottle… and another… and another. I’ve been sprawled out on this motel bed for two days, a steadily growing pile of empties on the floor.

I’m blacked out when Bobby shows up, picks my lock and lets himself into my motel room. He picks me up and drops me in the bathtub, turns the shower on to spray cold water across me. I moan and try to escape the cold, but Bobby holds me down with a hand on my collar. “You need to sober up, girl. You missed some important shit while you were in the bottom of those bottles, ignorin’ my calls.”

“Bobby, no. Go ‘way.”

“I ain’t here for your self-pitying bullshit, kid. Hundreds of demons escaped a hell’s gate and you’ve been here-”

“I got Sam killed!” I exclaim, grabbing Bobby’s hand and trying to pry his fingers off of my shirt.

“And Dean brought him back!”

My eyes widen at that, and I sit up. “He didn’t do what John did. Tell me he didn’t do what John did!” Bobby just looks away from me and I scramble to get out of the tub. The motion makes me nauseated, and I scrabble along the tile floor to eject whiskey into the toilet bowl. Bobby pulls my hair out of my face and rubs my back. “How long?” I groan, the sound bouncing off of the porcelain.

“A year. A year to get him out of it, girl. A year to fix the mess the yellow eyed demon made.” Bobby stands and heads into the main room, tossing a towel and a new set of clothes from my duffel. “We need you, sweetheart. We need you sober and not drowning in guilt. It wasn’t yer fault.”

“Sam wouldn’t’ve left. I tried to get him to… he wanted to save them, and they killed him an’ I wasn’ 'ere.”

Bobby sighed, heavily, as I pulled myself up from the bathroom floor, pulling on the sink counter. “That ain’t important. What’s important is fighting the army the demon brought forth.” I look up into the old man’s tired eyes and take a deep breath. “Don’t matter if you think they want you there, y/n. We _need_ you there. Ash is gone. We need yer brains.”

I nod. “Let me get a real shower. I’ll be out in a few.” He squeezes my shoulder and walks out of the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I drink a bit of the dog that bit me and I start combing through newspapers, looking for signs of the hundreds of demons Bobby says made it out through the hell’s gate in Wyoming. “Sam an’ Dean said you was… you were like Sam? That’s why you were in Cold Oak?” Bobby asks, suddenly. I look down. “Why didn’t you say somethin’?”

“Why didn’t I tell a _hunter_ that I could read minds and had been having visions of death and destruction and that I dropped my shotgun on a hunt and made it fly back to my hand with my mind? Is that a question you’re actually asking me, Bobby?”

“I wasn’t gonna hurt you, y/n! I’ve known you since you were knee-high.”

“I know, but I didn’t even tell my _father_ when I started having visions, Bobby. I only told Sam because I… I _had_ to.” I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s gone. Since I’ve been sober… ish… Since I’ve been awake, I’ve noticed it’s gone. I can’t hear you. It’s over.”

“ _That’s_ over, but the rest ain’t.” Bobby says, pulling his laptop up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We find a swarm of cicadas and some crop death in Lincoln, Nebraska and load up in his old Chevelle. Bobby calls Sam from the road, putting the phone on speaker so I can talk, too, even though he knows I won’t. “Hey, Sam.”

“Hey, Bobby.” Sam responds.

“What'cha doin’?”

“Oh, same old, same old.”

“You buried in that book again?” It’s the same book Sam’s apparently been looking at for a week. “Sam, you wanna break Dean free of that deal, you ain’t gonna find the answer in no book.”

“Then where, Bobby?”

“Kid, I wish I knew. So, where’s your brother?”

“Polling the electorate.” Sam answers.

“What?” Bobby doesn’t get the _Simpsons_ reference, but I do. Dean’s fucking some skank in a dirty motel. A thrill of jealousy runs through me but I ignore it. I have no right.

“Never mind.” Sam dismisses.

“Well, you boys better pack it up. I think we finally found something.”

“ _We_?” Sam asked.

I want to shake my head, leave it as long as possible before the Winchesters know I’m involved, but I bite my tongue and Bobby sighs. “Y/n. I found her.”

“Is she okay?” Sam asks, a worried tone on his words. “Where did she go after Cold Oak?”

Bobby gives me a look that says 'I told you you were overreacting, girl’ and clears his throat. “She thought she got you killed, so she tried to drown herself in bourbon.”

“What? She didn’t get me killed. Bobby, it wasn’t her-”

“Yeah, now she’s blamin’ herself for Dean makin’ that deal, too.”

“None of this woulda happened if I’d just _listened_ to her, Bobby. She tried to get me to leave the others to their own devices, she tried to warn me about Ava back before Lily even turned up dead. None of this is her fault.”

“Dean thinks it is.” I say, finally.

“Y/n! What-”

“Before I ran, when he was… when he was holding you, I could hear it, feel it… he blames me, Sam, and he’s not wrong.”

“Yes, he is. He’s very wrong. It’s not your fault, y/n.” I bite my lip. “If Dean still thinks that, he’s wrong. All you did was get out. That’s it. _Jake_ stabbed me, and he only had that opportunity because _I_ didn’t kill him when I had the chance. All of it… all of it was the demon’s fault.”

I swallow and look down. “If I’d stayed, I could have helped.”

“Or you could’ve got yourself killed, too. Look, we’ll talk more when we get up together. What’d you find, and where?”

As Bobby runs down the information for Sam, I bite my thumbnail. I’m nervous about seeing them but happy that Sam at least doesn’t blame me for his demise. We make it to the outskirts of Lincoln early the next morning and we quickly find the house which seems to be ground zero for the cicada plague. We don’t go in, calling Sam to let him know where we are, and I hop up onto the back of the Chevelle to wait for the boys. “So, where’s your daddy been, girl?” Bobby asks, trying to make small talk.

“He’s been down in South America. There’s some… Norte Chicoan artifact he’s trying to track down. He didn’t give me much in the way of details. He was trying to respect my… decision to stay out of the game.”

Bobby looks down. “He know yer back in?”

I shake my head. “What would I say, Bobby? 'I started having visions and doing weird shit with my mind so I got back into hunting to prove to a demon that I wasn’t gonna play his game?’ No. No, I don’t think that’d fly. Just keep… doing what I’m doing.”

There’s a moment of silence. “Ain’t my business, but you might wanna call 'im. Since ya almost died in Cold Oak and yer back huntin’ puttin’ yer life in danger… might be a good thing fer a dad to know.”

I sigh. Calling Dad is about as high on my list as an ice pick lobotomy. Fortunately, we don’t have to keep talking, because the familiar roar of Dean Winchester’s Impala engine pulls our attention to the end of the driveway. The Winchester boys get out of the car, Dean chewing on a burger. His eyes jump to mine, then pointedly look away. Sam wraps his arms around me and I melt, wrapping my arms around his chest. “Sam, I’m so sorry.” I whisper, just loud enough for Sam to hear me.

“It’s not your fault.” He whispers.

I pull back and sigh, loudly, unable to stop it. “I wish I could still read your mind. I could use some of those complimentary thoughts.”

Sam kisses my forehead. “I’ll tell you all about what I’m thinking later, okay?” I nod. He turns to Bobby, hands going into his pockets. “So, Bobby, what do you think? We got a biblical plague here, or what?”

“Well, let’s find out. Looks like the swarm’s ground zero.” Bobby says walking toward the front door of the farmhouse.

Dean pops a piece of gum into his mouth to deal with his early-morning burger breath and knocks on the door. “Candygram!” He shouts. No one answers, so Dean pulls out his lock pick equipment and the rest of us pull our guns. As soon as the door opens, we’re hit with a wall of stench, the smell of decay causing us to flinch and cover our noses.

“That’s awful.” Sam says quietly.

“That _so_ can’t be a good sign.”

I find the sitting room first, gagging as I look at the family of desiccated corpses watching 'Dallas’, though the television probably wasn’t on 'Dallas’ when they died. Sam and Dean burst into the room and recoil at the smell. Bobby’s next. No one knows what happened here. Dean tells us to check for sulfur, then stops us with a whistle to gesture at us, let us know he saw something outside. He walks out to the porch and Bobby and I follow around the other side of the house. We watch as Dean gets beat down with the butt of a shotgun by a semi-familiar face.

“Issac? Tamara?” Bobby says, rushing forward.

“Bobby! What the hell are you doing here?” Tamara’s accent makes the connection in my head and I rush forward.

“I could ask the same.” Bobby responds.

“Tamara!” I smile at her.

“Y/n! Look at you! You were just a wee thing last I saw you!”

“I was eighteen, that’s not so wee.” I say.

“Sixteen.” Sam corrects, quietly, walking up behind me. Shit. Sometimes even _I_ forget Dad and I added two years to my age.

“Heya, Bobby. Hey, y/n.” Issac greets.

“Hello.” Dean raises an arm and pitifully waves for attention. “Bleeding here.” I reach out and grab his hand, pulling him up off the porch easily. He discretely rubs his hand against his jeans like he’s trying to rid himself of my cooties. I sigh and retreat away from him before he sees the devastation in my eyes. I turn the corner of the house and Sam is almost instantly upon me.

“Hey. You okay?”

“I don’t need to be a mind reader to know what he’s thinking. He still blames me.”

“He’s wrong.” Sam insists.

“Yeah. So you keep saying.” I take a deep breath. “It’s fine. More important things. I’m gonna go find a pay phone and… call in the bodies.” I smile tightly and rush away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve kinda dissociated since we’ve been at Tamara and Issac’s place. I feel like I’m being watched. I feel like I need to kill something. I feel like I need a drink. I come back to myself as Dean walks into the room with his phone up to his ear. “Well, Jenny, if you look as pretty as you sound, I’d love to have an… appletini. Yeah. Call you.” He hangs up and looks around the room. “That was the coroner’s tech.”

“And?” Sam asks.

“Get this. That whole family, cause of death? Dehydration and starvation. There’s no signs of restraint, no violence, no struggle. They just sat down and never got up.”

“But there was a fully stocked kitchen just yards away.” Bobby says.

“Right. What is this, a demon attack?” Sam asks.

“If it is, it’s not like anything I ever saw, and I’ve seen plenty.” Bobby says.

“Well, what now?” Dean looks around the room. “What should we do?”

“Uh, _we’re_ not gonna do anything.” Issac says.

“What do you mean?” Sam asks.

“You guys seem nice enough, but this ain’t _Scooby Doo_ and we don’t play well with others.” Issac answers.

“I think we’d cover a lot more ground if we all worked together.” Sam says.

“No offense, but we’re not teaming with the damn fools who let the Devil’s Gate get open in the first place.”

“No offense?” Dean says, his eyebrows scrunched together.

Heat fills my chest. “Were you there? They didn’t _let_ shit-”

“Y/n, don’t.” Sam says.

“No! This ain’t on you. _Jake_ opened that door! Jake _killed_ you and opened that door and Bobby fuckin’ closed it.”

“They shoulda stopped _Jake_ before it got open.” Issac growls at me.

“Issac.” Tamara admonishes. “Like you’ve never made a mistake.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah. Locked my keys in the car, turned my laundry pink. Never brought on the end of the world, though.”

Dean chuckles, but he feels like he’s about to throw a punch. I feel the same. “All right. That’s enough.”

“Guys, this isn’t helping. Dean-”

“Look, there are a couple hundred more demons out there now. We don’t know where they are, when they’ll strike. There ain’t enough hunters in the world to handle something like this. You brought war down on us. On _all_ of us.” Issac says. Tamara grabs his arm and pulls him away.

“Okay, that’s enough testosterone for now.” She says, leaving the room.

I shake my head and stomp out of the house. I bite my lip and start walking. I don’t know where I’m walking, but I’m completely certain I’m not going back to Tamara and Issac’s place. I make it to the mains of Lincoln before I decide to hit a bar. I drop onto a stool and order a bourbon. The bartender gives me a look that says he knows I’m in a bad place, but he doesn’t ask. I down it quickly and hold up my hand for another. “You’ll never be able to stop this alone, you know.”

“I’m not alone.” I turn to the owner of the accented voice. “And stop what?” I gawk a little at the attractive older man. He looks to be about forty-five, maybe fifty, with striking hazel-gold eyes. He’s wearing a designer suit, Armani or something. He obviously catches my stare because his lips twist into a smug smirk.

“Well, you _look_ alone, darling.” He leans closer to me and I get a whiff of a musky cologne, strong scotch whiskey and just a _hint_ of rotten eggs. “Sitting here drinking while your boyfriends try to figure out what happened in that farmhouse.”

“I don’t have boyfriends.” I smirk and lean away from him. “And I bet you could tell me what happened in that farmhouse, couldn’t you?”

“I could. Do you want that?”

“And why would you do that? Why would you give me information, when I know what you are?”

“You don’t know the half of what I am, pet.” He smirks. “But the most important thing that I am is someone who was just fine with the old status quo. I’m someone who doesn’t need or _want_ a bunch of bloody ancients muckin’ about in my territory, and I’m someone who can help you win the bloody war Azazel brought on.”

“Listen to you sayin’ 'someone’ like you’re a people. It’s adorable.” I take a drink of bourbon and lick it from my lips. I study its face, looking for… something. “How could you possibly help me win the war?”

“I can give you your powers back, teach you control. You can use your little gifts to save people, put things back the right way. The End of the World isn’t very good for sales, I’m sure you understand.”

I nod. “So, you’re a crossroads demon.”

“Crowley. _King_ of the crossroads demons.” His eyes fill in with red as he extends his hand. I take it, my eyes not leaving his… _its_ eyes. Not a man. It’s an 'it’.

“How can you give them back? The Yellow-Eyed Demon is dead.” I won’t admit to this creature that I miss the powers, that I miss knowing what people are thinking. That I was getting used to it, that I was hoping to get stronger.

“He’s obviously not the only demon who knows how to tap into what you’ve got inside you, darling. Now, do you know how he turned you and all his special children _into_ special children?”

I lick my lips and drop its hand. Bobby filled me in on this. “Demon blood. I was force-fed it as a baby.”

“Right.” It nods, its eyes regain the green-gold quality of its vessel. “Every bit of what made you extraordinary imparted in a few drops of blood.”

“You obviously don’t know what makes me extraordinary, then.” I respond.

He smiles. It’s not a smirk. It’s a real, honest smile. “You’re wrong about that. I know exactly what makes you extraordinary. And how sexy you can make a word like 'daddy’ is only a small part.” I look away from him. I don’t know how he knows about that, but I’m not going to comment. “Your dedication to the job is paramount. You want to help people. I can help you help people.”

“And what, you just need my soul?” I roll my eyes.

“No. Not your soul. I just need you to have a drink.” He produces a glass vial with a dark red liquid in it.

“Is that-”

“Yes. It’s _mine_ , if that helps.”

“Not much.” I swallow and reach out to grab the vial. “I don’t… What am I supposed to do with this?”

“You’re not stupid, y/n.” His fingertips release the glass and slide across my wrist. “A few drops gave you your gifts, what do you think a few more would do for you?”

I look down at his hand on me and shake my head. “You’ll do well to keep your hands to yourself, Crowley, King of the Crossroads. Because I’m _not_ stupid and I’m not going to be seduced by a _demon_.”

He smirks and pulls his hand away, conjuring a burn phone and setting it on the top of the bar. “My number’s the only one in there. Call when you decide to drink that. I’ll work you through it.”

I tuck the vial in my pocket and swivel on the bar stool until I’m looking straight at him. “And the family in the farmhouse?”

“Ah, yes. Check _Binsfeld’s Classification of Demons_. Under ’S’.” The demon says before disappearing. I immediately pull out a pen and write down ’ **Binsfeld’s Demons- S** ’ on a cocktail napkin. The vial feels heavy in my pocket as I throw down money on the counter and leave the bar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I get a motel room and pour salt lines along the door and windows. I pull out the laptop I swiped from the room next door with the passed out businessman on the bed and find a digitized copy of _Binsfeld’s Classification of Demons_ after hacking a student sign-in for Harvard. I scroll to the S section and just past the demon Samhain, which just gives me more reason to hate Halloween, I see it. The Seven Sins. Not just sins, but actual demons which specialize in inspiring their specific sin. The farmers, they were just too lazy to get up and feed themselves, get water. Sloth’s touch.

I read the entire entry three times before I sigh and shut the laptop. I flop face-down onto the bed and groan as the vial in my pocket digs into my leg. I pull it out of my pocket and slam it down on the side table, trying to ignore it and fall asleep, but my eyes keep opening and focusing on the bottle. I close them, tell myself it’s stupid to even entertain the idea of drinking blood, especially _demon_ blood, but after about twenty minutes I sit up and swipe the vial off of the table. I twist it, twirling it between my fingers, watching the dark red liquid move in the bottle, like a wave of dark syrup.

I know I shouldn’t do it. I’m not stupid. Even the demon said I’m not stupid. But sometimes I make really stupid decisions.

As I twist open the top of the bottle, I tell myself that it’s just scientific curiosity. That the demon put forth a hypothesis of what drinking his blood would do for me and I’m just testing to see if he was right. It’s a lie. I know it’s a lie. The blood is calling to me. I don’t know if it’s that I know it can give me back my gifts or the blood I’ve had in me my whole life yearning to be joined with the blood in the vial, but I know I need to taste it. Just a taste.

I dab a drop of blood onto my left index finger and stare at it. It’s lighter in color outside of the bottle. I lick my lips and bring my hand up to sniff at the blood drop. It smells like iron and sulfur, which is exactly what I was expecting. “This is stupid.” I go to wipe the blood off on my jeans, but I stop myself. “Fuck.” I detour the finger up to my mouth and lick the blood off. It takes a few minutes to kick in, but when it does, I go into shivers. My body is suddenly burning hot and the motel room feels freezing cold. On the back of the sudden fever and my heart pounding in my ears, I notice that I can _feel_ everything. Things I never noticed before, like the scratchy blanket I was lying under that I can feel every fiber of the fabric, the vibrations from the light in the lamp on the bedside table, the weight of the denim of my jeans. “Oh, my god.” I whine.

The phone in my pocket goes off and I flip it open. “You were supposed to call me, Baby Girl.” The demon’s voice sends a shiver through my entire body and it’s not because of the fever. My body reacts to the nickname conjuring up images of John in my head and I whimper. “I’m right outside your motel, sweetheart. Open the door.”

“There’s salt.” I mutter.

“Then, move it. Don’t you want me to help you, Baby Girl?”

I whine. “Don’t call me that.”

“You like it. Come on, pet, I can’t help you through the phone.”

“I don’t even wanna move.” I admit, sitting up.

“How much did you have, y/n?”

I take a deep breath and shuffle across the carpet to open the door. I run my boot across the salt line. “I had one… just a… just one drop.” I move out of the way and he steps inside. It. It steps inside. Fuck, why did I just let it in?

“One drop, just to see what it does?” He places his hands on my hips and walks me backwards to the bed. I look into his vessel’s eyes, breathing heavily. His fingertips feel warm, his body comfortable against mine. “Yore incredibly sensitive, aren’t you? Thought a girl who’s been drinking hard liquor since she was fifteen would have a bit more resistance.”

“Liquor’s not the same.” I breathe out.

“Not at all.” He smiles and pushes me to the bed. “Now, darling… tell me what I’m thinking.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

“Come on. It’s only been a few days, Baby Girl. Yore not that rusty. What am I thinking?” I close my eyes as he climbs onto the bed with me, heavy hand running up under my shirt and rubbing his thumb in sweeping motions across my abs. An image forms in my mind. It’s cloudy, grey around the edges, but it makes me moan when it comes into focus. Crowley with his face between my thighs, my wrists tied to the headboard above my head, me writhing under him. “That’s a good girl. You know exactly what I’m thinkin’, don’t you?”

“No.” I’m not denying that I know what he’s thinking. I’m denying him. I grab his wrist and stop his hand in its upward movement. “You’re… you’re a demon.”

“And _you’re_ high on my blood. Do you know how good it’d feel for you?” He leans down over me, brushes his lips over mine. “I can make you feel amazing.”

“You’re supposed to be helping me, not trying to fuck me.” I whisper, closing my eyes as more images pour into my brain, each more raunchy that the last.

“I can do both.” He growls against my mouth, pressing his lips harshly into mine. It feels good. I whine into him. He grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls it off. I shiver in the cold of the room, but he immediately covers me with his warm body. He pushes my legs apart and settles between them, runs his tongue along my neck. “I’ll fuck you until you come down from the blood and then we’ll work on your powers.” _My_ phone goes off and it jolts me enough to bring me back to the real world, back to who I really am. I push the demon off of me and reach out my hand, smiling softly as my shirt flies into my hand.

“You’re a demon.” I slide the shirt over my head and pull my phone out. “I’m not fucking you.” I check my text and smile. It’s Sam. He’s worried about me. I text to let him know I’m fine, that I got a motel and I’ll track him down tomorrow. Then I turn to Crowley. “Start teaching, or I get the salt.”

“More resistance than I thought you had.” He grumbles, rolling off the bed. “Come on. Stand up. We’ve got a lot to do.”


	4. Possession and Praise

**Chapter Warnings:** references to demon blood, possessive!Sam, threesome, oral (male rec), unprotected vaginal sex

* * *

I lost a day. Between the demon working with me until I was exhausted, and the crash after the blood high, I don’t wake up until the next night. I wake to some very high-maintenance messages from Sam, a few voicemails from Bobby. Apparently, I missed out on a woman getting so worked up over a pair of shoes that she put another chick’s face through a car window. Envy, nice to meet you.

I head back to Tamara and Issac’s place and before I even approach the house I can hear, _feel_ , Tamara’s anguish. I get flashes of Issac’s death. Sam and Dean are wrestling a red-haired man into the house when I walk up. Bobby turns on me. “Where the hell you been, girl?”

“I was sick.” I answer. Dumb, high… sure ‘sick’.

“Too sick ta answer yer damn phone?!”

“Yes.” I snap. “But not too sick to figure out what we’re up against. You got a _Binsfeld’s Demons_?”

Bobby blinks. “Yeah. Tamara does. Come on.” I follow him into the house, where he grabs an ancient book off of Tamara’s shelf and hands it to me. I flip it open, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S. I tap the entry for the Seven Sins and hand the book back to Bobby.

“How’d you-”

“The family just didn’t get up. The woman was really envious of the chick with the shoes.”

“Issac was touched with a powerful gluttony.”

“Issac? Is he okay?” I know he’s not, but I can’t let Bobby know that I’ve got my powers back.

Bobby just shakes his head and leads me into the sitting room where Tamara is arguing with Sam. “And I say we’re going back! Now!”

“Just hold on a second!” Sam shouts.

“I left my husband bloody on the floor!”

“Okay, I understand that, but we can’t go back.” Sam argues.

“Fine. Then you stay. But I’m heading back to the bar.” Tamara says and Dean moves toward the door.

“I’ll go with her.”

“It’s suicide, Dean!” Sam calls out.

“So what?! I’m dead already!” There it is. Dean’s excuse for being a reckless idiot.

Sam throws out a feeling of desperation, of sorrow. The thought that Dean might get himself killed before we even have an opportunity to save him… “How you gonna kill 'em?” I ask, trying to give Sam an argument to use.

“Yeah. You can’t shoot 'em. You can’t stab 'em. They’re not just gonna wait in line to get exorcised!”

“I don’t care!” Tamara shrieks.

“We don’t even know how many of them there are!” Sam argues back.

“Yeah, we do.” Bobby says, stepping forward with the book. “There’s seven. Do you have any idea who we’re up against?”

“No.” **The fuck does it matter?** Dean shakes his head. He doesn’t fuckin’ care who we’re up against. “Who?”

“The Seven Deadly Sins, live and in the flesh!”

 **Knew this reminded me of a movie.** Dean scoffs and grins. “'What’s in the box?!’” I roll my eyes. “Brad Pitt? Se7en? No?” Bobby shoves the book in his hands. “What’s this?”

“ _Binsfeld’s Classification of Demons_. In 1589, Binsfeld ID’d the Seven Sins, not just as human vices but as _actual_ devils.” Bobby explains.

“The family, they were touched by Sloth.” Sam starts. “And the shopper…”

“That’s Envy’s doin’, the customer we got in the next room. And Issac… he was touched with an awful Gluttony.” Bobby says, his eyes flashing to Tamara.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass if they’re the Three Stooges or the Four Tops! I’m gonna slaughter every last one of them!” Tamara shouts.

Bobby steps up, gets in her face. “We already did it _your_ way. You burst in there half-cocked and look what happened! These demons haven’t been topside in half a millennium! We’re talkin’ medieval, Dark Ages! We’ve never faced anything close to this! So we are gonna take a breath… and figure out what our next move is!” He takes a deep breath, thoughts of his wife flooding his brain. “I am sorry for your loss.” He finishes quietly.

Her lips tremble as she rushes out of the room. Sam turns to me, just staring. “Where were you?” He whispers as Dean follows Bobby out of the room.

“I told you. I got a motel room.” I look down.

 **Liar**. “Come on, y/n. You didn’t answer your phone all day. Are you okay?”

I nod. “I got really fucked up last night, but I’m better now.”

“Drinking in the middle of a demon hunt?” Among other things. “That’s not smart, y/n. I’ve already gotta worry about Dean getting himself killed before his number’s up, I don’t want to worry about-”

“Sam, you don’t have to worry about me.”

 **I can’t lose another one.** “I _am_. I’m worried about you and I’m worried about Dean and I’m worried about everything we let out into the world.”

“You didn’t let anything out into the world. It wasn’t you. You and I, neither of us would have opened that gate. Neither of us would’ve given in to the Yellow-eyed Demon. It’s Jake’s fault.” His mind flashes to shooting the soldier. “It was a good thing that you killed him. He deserved it.”

“He was a human. I shouldn’t have-”

“You liked it. That’s the problem you’re having with it.” He shrugs, slightly. “That rage, baby. There’s nothin’ wrong with that rage. Jake deserved it.” I assure him before heading to the room with the demon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Preparing for the demons to show up is tense. Dean’s thoughts of sacrifice and suicide are getting to me. “You have to stop this.” I whisper when Sam leaves to get a jug of holy water.

 **Thinks she’s gonna tell me what to do.** “Shut up.”

“You’re hurting Sam. You trying to kill yourself without giving him time to figure out a way to save you? That’s completely unfair.” I sigh. “And you can hate me all you want, but it’s not my fault he died, you know?”

He growls, angrily. “You shouldn’t have left him there!” **But she was just trying to get out, get help.**

“My being there wouldn’t have done anything except get me killed! And I’m sure you’d be totally fine with that, because I’m just some freak you got freaky with, but-” He’s in front of me in an instant, grabbing my biceps.

“I’m pissed off and dying, y/n, but don’t pull that shit on me. You aren’t just some freak.” **Fuck, I want her. Might have time to get a hummer out of her.** “I thought we might… you know, someday, be more than just good sex, but now.” He runs his hand up to caress my cheek. **Will 'last night on earth’ work on her? Worth a try.** “We’re out of somedays, Kinky Boots. Tonight might be our last chance.”

“You’ve been completely ignoring me for two days, Dean. I might not be able to hear your thoughts, anymore, but-”

“I don’t have a right to act a little off? I got less than a year left, if I survive _that_ long.”

“You _won’t_ if you keep acting like the way you’ve been. You won’t live out the night.”

“Might as well use the time we got, then, right?” He dips his head down and rubs the tip of his nose down the length of mine.

“Dean.”

“Come on. I can’t _think_ it at you like I did last time, sweetheart. Don’t you wanna go out with a bang?” He whispers.

“What the hell, guys?” Sam’s voice makes me jump, but Dean just lifts his head, looks over me to his brother.

“Sammy, I’m dying. You’re gonna dangle this prime piece in front of me and expect me not to have a little fun before the lights go out?” I turn, slightly, as the door closes behind me.

“Not without me.” Sam growls. **Mine**. He grabs my head and pulls me into a kiss as Dean chuckles, pulling at my jeans. “She’s mine, Dean, but I’m willing to fuckin’ share.” Sam grabs my breasts as Dean drops my jeans and panties to my feet. “ _If_ you promise to stop acting like you can’t wait to get to Hell.”

“Right now, Sam, I just wanna get all three of us to Heaven.” He says, slipping his hand between my thighs and rubbing his fingers between my pussy lips. “And I _am_ the one going to Hell, so I get her pussy.” I step out of my pants, Dean helping me when my boots get caught, all the while rubbing at me. **So good. She’s so fuckin’ responsive. Dripping wet already.**

“That’s fine. Her mouth is magic, anyway.” Sam licks across my lips as Dean starts working on his belt.

“Hands and knees, y/n. Gotta be quick about this.” Dean demands. **Wish I could take my time. She’s worth it.**

“And quiet. No one wants to answer those questions from Bobby.” I go to my knees as Sam pulls at his belt.

“I’m sure he’d understand.” Dean drops behind me, lines himself up with my pussy, and slides in. I can tell he’s not all the way hard yet, because he’s not stretching me ‘til it hurts, but he’s getting harder as the moments pass. Sam presses his cock between my lips and I go to work. Dean grabs my hips, going fast, giving off soft grunts. “Still on the pill?”

I nod around Sam’s cock, left hand on the floor, right hand pumping him as fast as I can as I swirl my tongue around him. **Mine. Made for me. So fuckin’ perfect.** I do love hearing Sam’s thoughts.

But Dean’s are pretty nice, too. **Too good… us. Too smart, too nice, too badass. She’s… much. When’s she… realize and get herself… from us?** Comes across in fractured pieces, pieces Dean’s trying to hide under a mountain of arousal, trying to hide it from himself.

Sam cums down my throat and I swallow it with just a small cough and pull back with a small moan. Dean leans over me, reaches around me, and starts rubbing furiously at my clit as his thoughts flash to the disappointment of me not cumming the night he showed up on my porch. “Come on, sweetheart.” He grunts, quietly, in my ear.

“So close.” I whimper.

“ _Yes_. Come on. Can’t wait to watch you fightin’ demons, knowin’ my cum is leaking out of you.” I clench hard around him and his cock twitches in me. He fucks me through his orgasm and pinches at my clit and I have to bite my lip to keep myself from crying out as I crash over the precipice. Dean pulls out and Sam helps me up off the floor. “That was a damn fine quick spitroast. I am ready to fight some damn demons.”

I struggle to get my jeans back on and it’s impossible to ignore the cum dripping out of me onto the crotch of my panties, leaking through onto my pants. Sam’s looking over my head at his brother. **Fuck. Damn it, Dean, don’t look at her like that. The lust is okay, but get the sparkle out of your eyes.** That thought catches me off-guard. I turn to look at Dean as I button my jeans, but he’s already fully dressed and he looks away from me as soon as my eyes find his. **He’s not allowed to fall for her. She’s not for him.**

“I’m gonna go check on Bobby and Tamara.” I whisper, running a hand through my hair as I open the door and leave. Between Sam’s possessiveness and Dean’s weird praising thoughts, I’m not sure exactly what to do here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You goin’ back with me, or… you gonna stay with the boys?” Bobby asks as we get ready to leave the next morning. **Damn girl gettin’ used by my boys. Can’t believe a genius fell for ‘last night on earth’.** Because of course he heard us.

“Uh… honestly, Bobby. I think I’m gonna hitch.”

“Like _Hell_ , you are. You don’t wanna be around the boys, that’s fine, but I’m takin’ you back to yer car.”

I sigh. “Okay. Let me just say ‘bye’ to Sam and Dean and then you can take me back to the motel.” I walk up to them, standing outside by the Impala and I smile. “Bobby’s gonna take me back to my car. So… you guys have my number…” Why is this ‘morning after’ so much more awkward than any of the others?

“You sure you don’t wanna come with us?” Sam asks.

“Um… I don’t think that’ll be a good idea.” I answer. That’s the truth. I need time to evaluate. Time to understand… because being around the Winchesters? Well, I don’t feel like a genius when I’m around the Winchesters. And let us not forget the vial of demon blood in my jacket pocket. I doubt Crowley’s gonna show up for training while I’m surrounded by other hunters.

“Probably best.” Dean agrees. **Easier to ignore her if she’s in Keystone.**

**Easier for Dean to ignore her if she’s in Keystone.**

Jesus, they even _think_ alike. “Anyway. I’ll be in Keystone for a while, uh, gonna have to call my Dad. I don’t know if he even knows what’s happening in the world. He’s been, kinda, out of the loop since he’s been in Peru, so…” I shake my head. “Anyway. It’s been fun.” I wave at them and drop into Bobby’s passenger seat.

We’re half an hour into our journey back to the motel Bobby found me at four days ago when he starts thinking about how to approach the fact that he heard us upstairs, how he’s worried for me, how I don’t need to let myself be used by the Winchesters to make up for what happened in Cold Oak. I decide to cut the tension, myself. “I know I shouldn’t have fucked them, Bobby, and I didn’t really fall for the ‘Last Night on Earth’ bit, except, you know, we really _could_ have died last night.”

“You sure yer psychic powers are gone, girl, ‘cause I was jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout talkin’ to you ‘bout how I heard you.”

“I can see how uncomfortable you are. I could hear it when you asked if I was gonna go with Sam and Dean or you… and I’m not very quiet when I’m… you know… so I figured you must have heard us.”

“It’s just… I love those boys, you know I do. I love ‘em like they were mine, but… Dean’s a skirt-chaser and Sam… well, since his girlfriend got murdered…” Bobby shakes his head. “I just think it’s a bad idea, y/n.”

“I agree. Completely, Bobby, I agree. You are absolutely right that it was a very bad idea… and I’m sorry you had to hear it.”

He smiles and nods. “Okay, girl. Let’s get you back to yer car.”


	5. Sin and Shame

**Chapter Warnings:** Blood Drinking, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive!Sam

* * *

Elizabethville, Ohio was seven different kinds of boring until the gate opened. I drove through once on my way from Cincinnati back home to Keystone. It was a half-dead factory town before they brought in bars and hookers and gambling. Demons, they’re all so overdramatic. I should know.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Baby Girl.”

“I didn’t ask you, Crowley,” I respond, getting out of my car and walking toward the front office of the cheap hotel. “You know I’m a hunter. You know I’m not going to stop being a hunter. You’re here to help me be a better hunter.”

“That’s not-”

I turn to the demon right outside the building. “If you don’t want to be here while I hunt your brothers, then fill my bottle and leave.” I raise an eyebrow at him.

He sighs. “Fine. Hurry up and get your room.”

I nod. I’ve got him right where I want him. Unfortunately, he can say the same about me, I know. He’s been working me over for two months. Even if I weren’t crazy for the things I can do because of him, I’m a bit… addicted to his blood. I knew, the first drop back in Lincoln, I knew what a heroin addict must feel. I get a room, number 6, and grab my duffel from my car. Crowley’s already in the room when I drop my stuff on the bed and kick the door closed. “I think I’m gonna hit the bar I drove past on the way in. Uh, ‘Trotters’. Seems a good place to get information.”

“Uh-huh.”

I sigh, deeply. He’s gonna make me ask. “I need a top-up before I go, get my powers to a hundred.”

“Gladly, darling. But you know what I want.”

I shake my head. “You know, there are more important things in life than your dick, Crowley.”

“Like your pride, y/n?” he snaps. “Must we do this every time? You haven’t been able to resist me since you went back to Keystone. We’re going to end up in bed, same as always, so why do you make this so difficult?”

I roll my eyes. At this point, I think it’s just out of habit. I know that I’m going to let him fuck me just as well as he knows it, but if I didn’t resist… if I didn’t put up some sort of fight… what kind of hunter would I be?

“Why can’t _you_ just gimme what I need without expecting anything in return?” I ask, but I know his answer. Same as every other time I’ve asked.

“Because I’m a demon, pet.”

“Not your pet,” I interrupt, moving to unpack my slinky red dress and black boots to wear to the bar.

“I’m a crossroads demon, y/n, and ain’t nothin’ in this world for free.”

I grasp the bottom of my tank top and pull it off over my head. “I hate you.”

“I know,” he says as I toss my shirt across the room. “I hate you, too, Baby Girl.” **Love when you get nude, though.**

“You’re a pig.”

“I’m a demon. And I’m a male. Were you expecting something else?”

I flopped to the mattress, shaking my head as I kick my sneakers off. “Not all males think the way you do, Crowley. I should know.”

“Of _course_ all men think like me, y/n. Goes with the penis.”

“Your borrowed penis,” I remind him as he climbs over my body and looks down at me.

He smirks down at me and I shiver. God, it’s not fair. He knows exactly which buttons to push. “ _This_ borrowed cock?” He grinds himself down against my pussy, putting perfect pressure on my clit. “That cock you’ve choked on and creamed all over? This borrowed cock you love so much? That makes you scream?”

“Just get on with it, Crowley.”

 **You try to take the fun out of it, but I’m still going to make you scream.** He pushes a picture into my mind of him hammering that thick cock into me and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. This is how it always goes. He takes his time, I act like I don’t like it to keep up appearances and he relishes every sound he makes me make. And then, only then, does he give me the blood I need.

‘The blood I need’. I hate that sentence. I hate that _reality_. I hate Crowley, but God, I love the way he makes me feel, the way he makes me scream. The things I can do with his blood running through me are worth every bit of the guilt.

It’s a little pathetic how quickly the demon has me writhing under him, with his mouth attached to my shoulder, his cock buried in me but not moving. “Move. God, Crowley, move.”

**That’s not how you ask, Baby Girl.**

“Oh, fuck you. Every fucking time?”

**You know what I want.**

I sigh, deeply, and buck my hips, but it doesn’t inspire him to move. It never does. “Daddy, please, fuck me.” He makes me say that because he knows it reminds me of John. Every damn time.

 **Good girl.** He chuckles against my skin and starts moving. I grasp at his shoulders to ground myself and close my eyes, try to imagine that it’s not a demon that’s plunging his massive cock into my pussy, that it’s not a demon’s weight pressing me into this dirty mattress. **Such gorgeous noises.** He has me moaning, screaming-loud, within ten minutes and I can hear the people in the next room over thinking about how loud I am. God, that should bug me more, I like my privacy, but I can’t stop moaning as he bites into his arm and places the bloody flesh against my lips.

It takes more blood to get me going than it did two months ago, but not the mouthful he feeds me this time. It’s too much. I feel my stomach turn as I swallow. But then the warmth blossoms up and my senses go into overdrive and I don’t care about anything except the feel of Crowley’s borrowed cock twitching against my inner walls as he cums. I whimper when he pulls out and snaps his fingers to redress himself. “A little something to hold you over ‘til next time. Call me when you’re done here.” He sets a bottle on the side table and I can see that it’s bigger than the one he usually gives me. He wants me to drink more, to _need_ more. I sit up as he disappears. Fuck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sitting in the corner of Trotters, listening out to the nasty thoughts of the patrons. I’m not hearing demons, but I’m hearing adulterers and coveters and random arrays of sinners. I take a drink of my beer and reach out.

“Boots?” A familiar voice pulls my attention to the bar. I can’t help the smile, even if my stomach twists with fear at his presence.

“Dean!” I stand and wrap my arms around his leather-clad shoulders. “Had to know I wasn’t the only one reading the trades.”

“You aren’t working with Richie, are you?” His hand lingers on my lower back. I barely recognize the question because my mind is filled with memories of our last time together. When _he_ remembers it, Sam is conspicuously absent.

“Delaney? Please, Winchester, I have _some_ standards.” I pull back and Dean lets his eyes drag down my body, appreciating my curves. “Great, now I gotta worry about keeping that idiot alive.”

“Yeah, I’m working on that. You strapped?”

“Of course I am,” I respond with a smirk. “Aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I got a lot more space to hide a gun. Can’t even imagine where you’ve got yours.” His eyes flash to my thighs and I smile.

“Yes, you can,” I say and I flip my hair out of my face.

He chuckles. “Sam’ll be real happy to see you,” he says as I lean against my table and bite my bottom lip.

“Oh, will he?”

“Yeah. Sammy talks about you all the time,” he lies. Sam hasn’t mentioned me since Nebraska, but neither has Dean. Dean, I can tell, _thinks_ about me all the time, though.

“Yeah? I figured he would have his mind too full of the black-eyed blond to think too hard on me.”

Dean nods. Fear and anger roll off of him. “You know about Ruby?”

I nod. “Yeah. Bobby doesn’t tell me everything, Dean, but he tells me enough. The important shit, that warrants a text message or two.”

He sighs and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry about that. We probably should’ve called you at some-”

“You don’t have to make excuses, Dean. Neither of you owe me anything.” I shake my head. He steps closer to me and there’s this care in his mind and all I can think about is the fact that I’ve got a demon’s cum on the inside of my panties. “She says she’s around to help, but there’s no such thing as a good demon, Dean. There’s always an angle.”

“We know that.” **God, she’s gorgeous. Fuck, I wanna take her back to the hotel… but I gotta… Richie… bartender.** “Look, I gotta run down Richie. He disappeared last night and I’m worried.”

I smile and nod. “Got a phone number for him? I’m sure his cell’s got GPS.”

Dean’s eyes widen, just a little, in realization. He scoffs. “Here I am, in a panic over finding that idiot, and you’re cool as ever with the big brains, comin’ up with a way to find him.”

I shrug. “Gotta use the big brains for somethin’.” I’m definitely not using them in my own life.

“Wanna come with me to track him down? I gotta head back to the hotel, get my laptop.” **Maybe time for a little… no. Can’t do that to her and Sam again.**

“Uh, yeah, you know what? This place seems a bit dead, anyway.”

“Yeah, Sam’s got eyes on the owner. I got a feeling about that bartender, Casey, though.”

“The one with the ass?” I ignore the zing of jealousy and snort. “I’m _sure_ you got a ‘feeling’ about her.”

“Ha ha. Seriously. Richie said he had a, uh, a date with her and then he disappeared. I think she may be a demon, but I’m not sure. Haven’t had a chance to get some holy water on her.”

I nod. “Yeah, let’s go. Hopefully we’ll find Richie happily getting his rocks off somewhere.”

When we get to the hotel, we pass my room on the way to his and Sam’s. Dean points at my door. “Whoever’s in that room… porn stars.” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Yeah. I don’t know what the guy was doing to the chick, but damn, I would’ve loved to get some pointers. She was _loud_.”

I shake my head. “You don’t need any pointers, Dean.”

“Can’t say things like that, y/n,” he says, quietly. **She’s gonna make me…**

I take a deep breath as Dean leads me into his room and pulls his computer off of his bed. “Why not?” I ask, sitting on the edge of his bed and pulling my thigh holster off before turning to him. “Are we pretending we’ve never had sex, Dean? Because I can do that, but…” I set the gun next to me and look at him over the laptop screen. “Kinda don’t want to.”

He shakes his head. **Sam would hate me.** “Aren’t you Sam’s?”

“Why, because Yellow-eyes said so?”

“Because _Sam_ says so.” He sighs. “You remember how he acted when he walked in on us in Lincoln? You can’t pretend he doesn’t have some sort of-”

“He doesn’t have any claim to me, Winchester. Neither do you. You wanna pretend, we’ll pretend, but don’t act like it’s some altruistic thing that you’re doing for Sam.”

“I don’t know the mean of that word, y/n.” **It’s not for Sam. It’s for you. Fuckin’ trainwreck.**

I sigh. I’m a trainwreck, too, idiot. “Whatever. Let’s just… you go ahead and find Richie’s cell. I’m gonna go get changed.” I swipe my gun off the bed and head out, pulling the hotel key from my bra as I go.

 **Is that a ‘6’ on her key?** “Wait, uh, sweetheart, uh…” **Was that her moaning? Why didn’t we recog-**

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Dean. In more appropriate clothing.”

I’m halfway through getting changed when my door opens. I left it unlocked because I knew he’d be coming to talk. “So… who is he?” **Don’t be a hunter, don’t be a hunter.** Dean leans against the door as I pull my jeans up my legs.

“He’s just a guy I met on a hunt a few months back. He’s a piece of shit but he gives me what I need.” There’s that word again.

“He didn’t stick around to help with the hunt?”

“He had an elsewhere to be… and this really isn’t his deal, Dean. He’s not a hunter. He’s a travelling salesman.”

“And you’ve been… you’ve been with him for… a few…”

“We’re not a real thing,” I interrupt. I shake my head. “I don’t get to _have_ real things, Dean.” I button my jeans and tuck my gun into the back of my waistband. “I’m always alone. I told you that the night we met.” I smile tightly at him as I slip into my sneakers. “Did you find Richie?”

“Yeah, I got an address.” **She deserves real. I wish I could**

“Let’s go,” I interrupt his thoughts by grabbing my jacket and stomping into the hall. “Lock the door behind you.”

“So… how’s your dad?” Dean asks as we drive toward the address where Richie’s phone stopped.

“Dead,” I answer, my throat clenching around the word.

 **Shit**. “Oh. Sorry. What happened?”

“Official story? The locals didn’t like him digging around in their stuff.”

“And the unofficial story?” Demons.

“Doesn’t really matter, does it? Dead’s dead.” He looks over at me, and I can tell he thinks I’m being cold. Maybe I am. Maybe everything that’s been happening and everything I’ve been doing with Crowley, it’s making me numb. Maybe I knew my dad was dead as soon as the Yellow-eyed Demon appeared in my dreams.

Maybe I always knew that I was never going to get to be happy. Should’ve just stayed out.

“Yeah, probably.” Dean’s words make me jump. How much of that did I say out loud? “But now you’re back in, I don’t see you gettin’ back out.”

“Right. Only way out is dead.”

I get a flash of Dean standing in front of a funeral pyre, flames warming his skin, tears stinging his eyes. The body is wrapped in white cotton, it could be a memory or it could be his imagination. “Well, as long as you take out more of them on your way out.”

“Of course I will.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finding Richie sucked. His head was twisted around completely. I helped Dean set up a pyre and send him on to Heaven. We watched him burn and got back in the Impala. “It was the bartender.”

“Probably,” I respond, biting my thumbnail.

“Hey, uh, can you draw a Devil’s Trap from memory? ‘Cause I was gonna go back to the bar, lure the bitch back to that manor we found Richie’s body at. There was that rug…”

“Yeah. I got it. Got some chalk in the trunk? Drop me off, I’ll get it done.”

As I’m drawing the trap, my mind goes to my father, to Crowley, to the Yellow-eyed Demon, to Dean and to Sam. I know Dean would love to get out like I did. Even for just a few years how I did it. I know Dean would love a chick who does yoga in her downtime and doesn’t feel like she has to kill monsters to curb her desire to kill shit. Dean dreams of Lisa Braeden but she’s a stand-in. Her and her kid and her little slice of suburbia. She’s what I could’ve been. She’s what I _should_ have been.

Sam dreams of Jessica, sometimes, but those are few and far now. Mostly, he dreams of the hunt. Mostly, he dreams of death. Sometimes, he dreams of me, but never of happy-ever… when he dreams of me, he dreams of sex.

Because that’s what I’m good for. For Sam, for Crowley, that’s what I’m good for.

I hide behind a stack of wine casks when I hear Dean’s voice. His thoughts are apprehensive, he’s hoping this will work… he’s wondering why demons always pick women with such amazing bodies. The demon isn’t thinking. Its mind is blocked. It forces me to realize that Crowley _lets_ me into his mind. As strong as this gift has gotten, he still only lets me hear what he wants me to hear.

“Everything okay?” Dean asks as the demon looks around the cellar, looking for Richie’s body.

She smirks, turns to him and I see her press her lips to his. “Make yourself comfortable.” She walks over and flicks on the light in the closet as Dean skirts the outside of the rug and the trap beneath it.

“Oh, I forgot to mention… Richie was a friend of mine.” The demon turns as I move out from behind the casks. “When my girl reminded me I could track the GPS in his cell phone, I swung by earlier. We gave him a proper burial. It’s better than rotting in some skank’s basement.” The demon launches itself across the cellar and slams into the invisible barrier of my Devil’s Trap.

I laugh and step up next to Dean. “Oops.” I drop to my knees and flip the rug to reveal the trap.

Dean clicks his tongue and smiles down at it. “Isn’t that a buzz kill? Sorry, sister, but you’re going back to where you came from,” he says, pulling out a book I recognize as one of Pastor Jim’s old exorcism manuals.

The demon chuckles. “I don’t think so.” A hard breeze starts blowing through the cellar, and Dean fumbles on the exorcism.

“Keep going. _Spiritus immunde, undolara._ ” I step back from beside Dean, out of his vision, and I close my eyes. I start trying to pull the demon from the brunette woman, but dust and debris start hitting me, then pages of Dean’s exorcism book. The book flies from his hand, the foundation of the house shakes, the staircase caves in.

Dean and I turn on the smug demon bitch. “What are you laughing at, bitch? You’re still trapped,” Dean snaps.

“So are you… bitches.”

I help Dean light candles, start moving rubble as ‘Casey’ taunts Dean about his inability to finish the exorcism. I could pull this bitch. I could exorcise her without a problem. But then Dean would know. He’d have questions I can’t answer. So, I’m just as stuck as they are.

Casey starts explaining how she fucked the town: a lunch with Trotter where she played on his greed to get him to play into everyone else’s vices. It wasn’t her fault, she didn’t “pull any triggers”. She just whispered in the right person’s ear. “All you gotta do is nudge humans in the right direction. Some whiskey here, a hooker there, and they’ll walk right into hell with big, fat smiles on their faces. Your kind is corrupt, kids. Weak. Our will’s stronger. That’s why we’ll win.”

“And that’s how it ends?” Dean asks.

“No. That’s how it begins.”

“So, demons take over. I thought the meek shall inherit the earth,” Dean says.

“According to _your_ Bible.” The demon scoffs. “It’s only a book, Dean.”

“Not everyone would agree.”

“Are you really having this conversation with a demon?” I sigh and the demon looks at me.

“What, a conversation about the fact that Dean Winchester is lecturing on a book he’s likely never read?” It turns its attention back to Dean and I roll my eyes. It goes into its own lecture on war and genocide, the body count that humans have racked up in the past century alone. And then she says she’s doing all of this, damning all of these souls, because she’s a true believer. She’s a follower, a disciple, of Lucifer. She has faith in Him.

I search through every encounter I’ve ever had with a demon. I remember every bit of dialogue and every errant movement and not a single reference to Lucifer appears. Not from Crowley, not from Yellow-eyes, not from that first demon back in Massachusetts. Lucifer. What sort of ridiculous bullshit is that? Is this bitch just fucking with us?

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Dean asks, looking away from the demon.

“I’m an open book,” it responds.

“So, the gate opened, the demon army was let out. What now, huh? I’m not seeing a big, honkin’ plan here.”

“Honestly, there _was_ a plan. Azazel was a tyrant, but… he held us all together.” Casey sits up from her place lying on the rug.

“Azazel?” Dean and I say at the same time.

“What, you think his friends just called him ‘yellow eyes’? He had a name.”

“He had _friends_?”

Dean smiles at me, but Casey rolls her eyes as she crosses her legs. “After you did him in, Dean, it all fell apart.”

“Sorry ‘bout that.” Dean nods. “So, what? No chain of command?”

“There _was_. It was Sam and y/n. Sam was supposed to be the grand pooh-bah and lead the big army with y/n at his side, but… they haven’t exactly stepped up to the plate, have they?”

“Thank God for that.”

“ _Again_ with God. You think this is a good thing? Now you’ve got chaos, a war without a front, hundreds of demons all jockeying for power, all fighting for the crown. Most of them gunning for your brother… some gunning for his girlfriend.” She turns her eyes on me. “For the record, I was ready to follow you and Sam.”

I feel a presence in the front courtyard of the house and look up, just a moment before Sam’s voice cuts through the cellar. “Dean?!” Dean looks up, we all move to stand.

Casey concedes defeat as Sam runs to the vent Dean was trying to climb out of earlier. Dean explains he’s down here with me and the demon and Sam’s thoughts pulse with worry. When Sam mentions he’s with ‘the Father’, Casey’s eyes light up. Of course the Cavalry and the Indians showed up at the same time.

“Sammy, be careful,” Dean demands.

I feel another presence, familiar and warm, just before a gunshot rings out. Bobby. Another presence, devoid of thought. Another demon. Bobby’s thoughts tell me it’s Ruby. I don’t have time to worry about what that bitch has been doing with Bobby, because another demon, the priest, is smashing his way through the rocks that trapped us.

Dean rushes at the demon as soon as it walks in. I move to jump at him, but I’m immediately tossed away. Casey warn the Father of the Devil’s Trap and he slams his fist into the stone, breaking my hard work.

Casey tells the priest to leave us be. It even says ‘please’ to its lover. It doesn’t move fast enough. A gunshot bangs, the priest falls, last bits of whatever it calls a soul sparking as it dies. Sam points the gun at Casey.

 **We can exorcise her!** “Sam, wait!”

Sam shoots anyway. He likes watching the spark die. It’ll hit him later that there were people in those bodies, too. He’ll feel guilty about it, then, but right now? Right now, he likes it. Dean flashes to Azazel in the cemetery. _“How certain are you that what you brought back is 100% pure Sam?”_

I pat Dean’s shoulder and start to walk out, but Sam grabs my wrist. “Are you okay?”

I smile, as genuinely as I can, and nod. “This was mostly just a lot of blabber. It couldn’t touch us.”

 **Did they touch each other?** “I didn’t know you were in town. When-”

“You were tailing Trotter, hung up on Dean when he tried to tell you he’d run into me, that we found Richie.”

 **So they didn’t have time to fuck. Good.** I manage to keep myself from rolling my eyes as I pull my wrist from his grasp. “Hey, are you-”

“I’m gonna get out of your hair.”

“Y/n, I-”

“I’m tired,” I deflect. I’m not tired. I’m agitated, irritated. I need the bottle sitting in my makeup bag in my duffel.

 **I haven’t had a chance-** “But-”

“Let her go, Sammy. She deserves a break.” **Far away from us.**

I hum in agreement. “Yeah. A break. That sounds good.”

“Maybe you call up your salesman, take a few days.” **Have something normal. Have something real.**

“Salesman?”

 **Not yours, Sammy.** “Yeah. Y/n’s in room six. She had a friend over yesterday when she checked in.”

I get a clip of a memory of Sam hearing my moans through the walls. “That was _you_?”

“Yeah, look, I-”

 **She’s _mine_!** “What… who? Who is he? How’d you-”

“Don’t,” Dean and I say at the same time.

“She’s obviously not yours.” There’s a smugness on his face, but I know it’s more of Dean’s false bravado. “She’s not yours, she’s not mine, she’s not what the Yellow-eyed Demon wanted her to be. Ain’t that just too bad?”

“But-” Sam starts, but I shake my head.

“You don’t get to do the jealous thing. Not when you haven’t called in two months. You don’t get to only give a fuck when I’m fucking someone who’s not you.”

 **That’s not true!** “I can’t believe you think-”

“Sammy, let her go.”

“Thanks, Dean. Y’all give me a call if you need me.” I smile at the older brother, nod at the younger, and start up the stairs. “We definitely need a last hurrah before the lights go out, Dean. Hit me up when you’ve got time.”

“You know it, sweetheart,” Dean calls after me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, yore looking somber. What happened?” Crowley asks when he appears in front of me in the hotel room.

“Azazel. Were you one of his?”

“Oh, look who’s got insider knowledge all of a sudden.” Crowley sticks his hands in his coat pockets and starts pacing. “Yes, _technically_ , I was one of Azazel’s but… with the exception of Lilith, Cain, and the other Princes, _every_ demon was working for Azazel.”

“Were you planning to tell me what Azazel had planned for me?”

“When, exactly, should I have told you that you were supposed to be queen of Hell? Second in command of Hell’s Army?”

“At some point before coercing your future queen into having sex with you probably would’ve been a good idea,” I snap.

“Oh, are you planning to step up and _be_ my queen, then?” He turns to me and I look down. “That’s what I thought.”

“If I _were_ queen, would I be able to save souls from the Pit?” I can’t help but think of Dean. Would it be worth it? Would I be able to handle being what Azazel wanted me to be, if it meant saving Dean from Hell?

“Sure. But not Dean Winchester.” My eyes snap to his. “He’s going down. No question. Besides, with Azazel gone, you’d have to fight Lilith for the crown, and she’s not interested in giving it up.”

I sigh and stand, moving to grab my duffel bag. “Okay. So… should I be worried about this Lilith?”

“Of course. But Sam’s the one who should be more worried.”

I lick my lips. “I should stay with them, watch their backs.”

“They don’t want that. Dean wants to die in peace and Sam wants you as far away from his brother as possible.”

Why does everything have to be so goddamn complicated? “Great. I hate when you’re right.”

“Back to Keystone, then?”

“It’s the only place I can get away from you.”

“You’re going to break that Devil’s Trap, eventually. I’m getting tired of bending you over the hood of your car.”

“No, you’re not,” I say, picking up my bag and doing the rounds to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything.

“No. I’m not.” 


	6. Longing and Loss

**Chapter Warnings:** Blood Drinking, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive!Sam

* * *

The phone ringing wakes me. It’s a persistent buzz against the hard wood of the hotel bedside table. “Don’t answer it,” my bed mate says, low voice a deeper rumble from sleep. I didn’t know demons _could_ sleep before I started sharing a bed with one.

I raise the phone enough to see the name on the screen. “Gotta. S'Dean” I mumble, as the phone zooms to my hand and the call connects before I’ve even touched it. I’ve been expecting this call. It’s April. His year’s almost up. One last hurrah. “Hey.”

“I wake you?”

I sit up and run my hand across my face. “Don’t know what timezone _you’re_ in, Winchester, but it’s 4:30 in the morning here in Cheyenne.” **Shit. Shouldn’t have called.** comes through to my mind, clear as a bell. “I don’t mind, though. I got a few good hours. What’s up?”

“I…” **Wanna see you before I go to Hell. Just one more time.** “Thought we could have that last hurrah. Haven’t seen you since Elizabethville. Even went by your place a couple times, but you were never in.”

“I’ve been keeping busy. Stop too long and it all hits hard. Uh… where are you? Wanna meet somewhere? And… where’s Sam?”

“We actually just finished a thing in Pueblo. Sam’s looking into last-ditch efforts. Told him I needed a few days, so he’s gonna hole up with his laptop and try to find an out that he somehow missed for the last year. Wanna meet halfway? Denver?”

I shoot Crowley a look but he just turns over and grabs a glass of scotch from his side table. “Yeah. I can do that. Biggersons off the interstate?”

“Sounds good. Meet'cha there, Boots.”

I hang up and pull the blanket back, moving for my clothes. “He’s doing the rounds, sayin’ ‘Goodbye’?” Crowley asks. I nod. “And, knowing yer not the only one on the tour, you still wanna go?”

“Where’s my leg to stand on, Crowley?” I gesture at him. “I have _literally_ been sleeping with the enemy. I should be upset that he’s got another bendy bitch he thinks of fondly? Please.”

“And the thief? He wanted her, too. And a hundred other-”

“I have no claim to him. None of it matters. He’s dead in two weeks. I can’t save him any more than Sam can. But I can make him feel good before the lights go out.”

I dress quickly and check my hair in the ornate mirror by the door before I leave. Crowley likes five star hotels and ancient scotch. He likes Armani suits and shoes made of Italian leather. He’s started taking care of every little thing for me and while a big part of me resents it because I’m a grown ass woman and a hunter who doesn’t need a demon to take care of me… the other part enjoys sleeping on Egyptian cotton sheets with 1000 thread count, and never worrying about going hungry just because I haven’t had any luck hustling lately.

The doorman glares at me on my way out of the hotel and the valet seems to _really_ hate my car, but what can I say? Still a hunter. Demon-fucker, blood-drinker, telepathic and telekinetic, but still a fucking hunter.

I make it to the restaurant in a little over an hour. Dean’s already waiting for me and I notice him before he notices me. He’s tired and scared. He’s clinging to the thought that there’s no way out if he wants to keep Sam alive. I approach with a smile and slide into the booth across from him. He plasters a fake smile on his lips. “Kinky Boots! Lookin’ damn fine for not even sunrise!”

“Wish I could say the same, Winchester, but you look like crap. When’s the last time you slept?” He shrugs. “Nightmares?”

“Well, I got a major league demon holdin’ my contract, one with a big chip on her shoulder about my brother, so she ain’t backin’ down on it. Unless we can figure out a way to put down Lilith in the next two weeks, I’m done, so… sleep doesn’t come easy.”

“Lilith.” I blink at him and lick my lips. “Your contract is held by… Lilith?”

“Yeah. This chick I know went down the same way as me said that, uh, Lilith holds _all_ the contracts.”

“But that would mean she runs the crossroads.” Crowley runs the crossroads.

“I guess so.”

A pit hits my stomach. Of _course_ Crowley’s been lying to me. He’s a fucking demon. Why does it hurt? I force a smile to hide the betrayal I’m feeling. “So… what can I do for you, Dean? Last hurrah, how do you want it?”

I get a flash of a candlelit motel room, soft rhythm and blues playing in the background as he takes his time with me, savoring every inch of my body. There’s champagne on the side table for just a second before his mind changes it to a bottle of cheap fruity white zinfandel. Even in his fantasy, he can’t go _that_ Nicholas Sparks.

“I’m a simple man with simple tastes. I’m thinkin’ motel room, shades drawn, classic rock on the radio, bottle of whiskey, only leaving the bed for food and water for a few days.” It’s kinda sad that he won’t let himself be soft.

“Well, then we better get some food in us… and some to take with us,” I say with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No more. I can’t…. Need a break,” I breathe out. We’ve been going for hours, at this point. I’ve cum three times to his once, but it’s just overstimulation by now.

He climbs up my body and smirks down at me. “See, this is what happens when you stop doin’ your yoga. You lose your stamina.”

I don’t argue that my stamina is fine, that I’m overworked from the way Crowley took me last night, that if I can keep up with a demon then I can definitely keep up with him… I simply pull his head down and lick into his mouth.

“Ah, I should probably call Sammy, anyway, let him know the Hounds haven’t gotten me yet.” **Twelve missed calls, at least. He’s gotta be losing his mind.** “I’m, uh… not gonna tell him who I’m with. Just… I mean, I don’t wanna…”

“I get it. I’ll be quiet. Actually, I’ll take this as an opportunity to hit the bathroom.” I kiss him again and roll off the bed. Dean slaps my ass as I walk away.

“Hey, Sam.”

Through the filter of Dean’s mind, I hear Sam’s words. “ _Where the hell are you, Dean? I take a fucking nap and wake up to a note and you don’t answer the fucking phone for four hours?_ ”

“Man, I told you. I just needed to have a little fun! It’s not even the final countdown. I wanted to have a night without you giving me sad puppy eyes, okay? I think I have earned that.”

“ _Dean, we have two weeks to figure out how to find Lilith and get her to drop your contract._ ”

“She’s not gonna do that, Sam! We have absolutely no way to find her, let alone force her to give up my freaking soul. Let me have this one thing and then I’ll come back and we can go back on soul patrol, all right?”

There was a long moment of silence, then a sigh. “ _Yeah, okay. Don’t be gone too long, man. I’m gonna call Bobby, see if he’s got anything._ ”

“Yeah, all right. I’ll call ya when I get out of here.” I walk back out of the bathroom and jump on the bed, wrapping my arms around Dean. He looks into my eyes and smiles. For a moment, there’s no fear in him. It doesn’t last, of course. The man’s going to Hell, and he’s terrified, but for a moment he’s lost in my eyes and it’s amazing.

His hand buries in my hair and he pulls me into a kiss. His tongue doesn’t taste like whiskey anymore, just his unique Dean flavor. He’s not drunk. He’s just vulnerable. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine. “When I go, I need you to take care of Sam. You and Bobby, he’s gonna need you or he’s gonna lose it.”

“I-”

“Lilith is gonna be after him. She’s probably after you, too, since you were on Azazel’s short list, too. I just need you to watch his back. If you gotta do that from his bed, more power to the power couple.”

I scoff and pull away, bringing my knees up to my chest. “Did you call me here for _this_? To fuck me, then chase me off to be with Sam?”

Confusion fills him as he debates whether or not that’s what he’s trying to do. “That’s not what I meant. Sometimes, I wish you still had your powers, ‘cause you could hear what I-”

I shake my head. “I don’t think _you_ know what you meant, Winchester.” He agrees. He doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t want me with Sam, wants me to have something real, but he doesn’t want either of us to be alone once he goes to Hell. “Maybe I should leave.”

“No, don’t go. I’m sorry. Don’t leave.” He sighs. His eyebrows come together as he pushes his hand into my hair. “Whatever happened with your salesman?”

“I told you it wasn’t anything real, Dean.”

He licks his lips. “Sorry. You should definitely have something real.”

“Like I could have with Sam?” I guess. He nods. I shake my head. “No. Much as I enjoy your brother…Things with my salesman are more real than what I have with Sam. At least he doesn’t think I belong with him because the Yellow-eyed Demon said so.” I scoff. “Azazel would probably _hate_ my salesman.” I don’t know why I like calling him ‘my salesman’ so much, but it feels right. He definitely sold me on a bunch of things I never would’ve considered a year ago.

“Look, promise me that you will, at least, keep tabs on Sam. Try to keep him from going too far off the rails?” **Please. If Sam gets himself killed then this was all fucking pointless.** “I just… the whole point of this is to keep Sam alive.”

Dean Winchester tends to say what’s on his mind when it comes to me and I like that. I like that he doesn’t know that I’m still in his head so he doesn’t try to keep shit inside. Dean is one of the most uniquely honest liars I’ve ever met. He lies to himself a lot, but he tries not to lie to me.

I nod. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” He pulls me into another kiss and I melt into it, letting him lay me down and cover my body with his own. I let him take comfort in me one last time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I take a hunt in California, then I head home. By the time I make it back to Keystone, it’s the morning of May 4. Crowley’s waiting for me, leaning against my porch with his hands in his pockets. My nonchalant demon salesman. I get out of my car and lean against the hood, ignoring the heat from the engine. “He make it downstairs?”

“‘Bout thirty hours ago… been months already for ‘im.”

“I forgot. Time’s wonky down there, isn’t it?”

“Hell’s designed to fuck with your head… and body, and soul. I wasn’t there for more than a year before I was a demon, pet. That’s quite a lot longer down there, but…” He shrugs and starts toward me. “Have you broken that trap, yet?”

I shake my head. “I like having a place where you won’t go.” He grabs my hips and pulls me away from my car. This is where he snaps my jeans off and fucks me… usually. I slap his hands away. “We need to talk about Lilith.”

Crowley rolls his eyes at me. “Are you sure you want to talk about Lilith? It’s been weeks since you’ve seen me. I thought you might need a top-up.”

“I’ve been rationing. I’ve still got a fourth of a bottle left,” I say, smugly. “Lilith. Spill.”

“What? What do you want to know?”

“Lilith holds all crossroad contracts. I thought _you_ were King of the Crossroads.”

“I _am_ … but everyone has a boss.”

“And Lilith’s _your_ boss.”

“Yes, and no. Tol’ you she took over after Azazel went. She sits on the throne, so it’s her name on the scrolls. That’s it. _I’m_ in charge of the Crossroads,” he insists.

I lick my lips, search his eyes, finally sigh. Even if he’s lying, I can’t tell. Even if he’s lying, what could I do about it? I need his blood. That quarter of a vial of blood isn’t gonna last very long. He can see my resistance fade. I can see it in his smile as he steps closer and grabs my hips. I’ve gotten used to the sulfur taste in his mouth, I like to chase it around with my tongue.

He pushes me back against my hood. It’s still burning hot, but all I can focus on is his hands pushing my shirt up over my breasts, his hard cock rutting against my thigh. He quickly pulls my bra down and starts licking and biting my nipple. I lean back to give him better access, using my powers to pop the button of his suit pants and pull the zipper down. He pulls back, pops the button on my jeans and pulls them and my underwear down my legs.

I turn quickly and set my hands on the hot metal hood. Crowley slips a hand down my ass and slips two fingers inside of me. “Oh, fuck.”

“Are you _always_ this wet? Because every time _I_ touch you, you are.”

I drop my head to the backs of my hands and moan in response as he fucks those fingers in and out of me. He pulls them away and immediately replaces them with the head of his cock. That beautiful, _huge_ fucking cock. Honestly, if I didn’t _know_ that the man he wears used to be a literary agent, I’d swear he must’ve been a porn star because that cock… That cock is amazing. “Foot on the bumper,” he instructs and I obey. Dear God, I don’t even consider _not_ doing what he says.

He slides in, one hand on my hip, the other grabbing my shoulder to hold me in place. It’s moments like this, when he’s fucking me over the hood of my car and my moans are echoing through the trees surrounding my house, that I consider breaking the Devil’s Trap under my house. I want him to take me in my bed, where I’m comfortable, but I can’t let him.

I have to have that space. That space untainted by demons and blood. Hell, I don’t even drink his blood in the house. I leave it in the car. That house, it’s got memories of Sam, of Dean and John. It’s got memories of the years I was normal. I can’t let Crowley corrupt that when he’s already corrupted me.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I moan as he picks up his speed.

“Louder!”

My pussy clenches hard at his demand, and I start moaning louder. It’s fucking early in the day to be screaming, but it’s not like I have neighbors to worry about. “Please, Crowley! Please, fuck, please! Please, harder. God, I need it.” His grip on me tightens and he hammers into me harder, his cock hitting my cervix over and over. I scream, slapping the hood and shuddering as my muscles tighten and flutter around him. He fucks me through it, pulsing as he hits his own orgasm and fills me up.

He pulls away from me and snaps his fingers and we’re both dressed. I turn to him and lick my lips. “So, uh… I still have some left, but-”

“Of course, darling.” He produces another small glass bottle full of his blood and presents it to me. I take it and immediately shove it in my pocket. “Til next time.”

“Yeah.” I nod and head toward my place. He’s gone by the time I get to the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hear the engine rumbling down the dirt road to my house at a little before 5pm. That loud 502 big block is unmistakable. It used to be that sound would denote Dean’s arrival, but I know it’s Sam behind the wheel tonight. I open the front door as Sam slams the driver’s door and stumbles toward the porch. He’s drunk, I can smell the whiskey. I rush to his side, trying to help him stay upright. I can’t believe he was _driving_ like this.

“Sam!”

“He’s dead. Dean’s dead. I couldn’t save him.”

“So, that’s reason to drink yourself to death?” I snap, trying to wrap him around me and get him into my place. He stumbles on the stairs, dropping away from me, his large body hurtling toward the wood of the porch, face-first. I put my hands out on instinct to stop him, but not with my muscles because I know I can lift that two-forty body without help. I use my powers without a thought and he’s left floating two inches over the porch.

He slowly sets his palms against the wood, drops his knees and turns his head to look at me. His eyes are wide and I can see that adrenaline has burned some of the liquor out of his blood. For the moment, he’s lucid, and he _knows_. I drop him and he turns his whole body, sits on the steps and looks up at me. “You still have your powers?”

I shake my head. “I got them back,” I whisper.

“You got… you got them _back_? When? How?”

I swallow and lick my lips. “Uh… the day I disappeared in Lincoln.”

“This whole year? You… why didn’t you say anything?”

I take a deep breath. “Because I’ve been… This is really a conversation for us to have when you’re sober.”

“I’m sober _enough_ ,” he growls, standing and using his height to try to intimidate me. “Fuckin’ tell me. Tell me how you got the powers back.”

I look up into his eyes and steel myself. “How’d we get ‘em the first time?” He blinks a few times, then his eyebrows pull down tightly. I reach into my pocket and pull out the little glass bottle.

He snatches the bottle from my hand and raises it to his eyes. “Is this-?”

“Yeah. It’s… it isn’t Azazel’s so it doesn’t work quite the way it should… I have to keep drinking it or the powers fade. I’ve been trying to cut back. I… I don’t like relying on… him. I mean, _it_ , the demon.”

“You… you’ve been drinking demon blood?”

I grab the bottle back and shove it into my pocket. “Yes.”

“For a year? Who’s been giving it to you?”

“Just this crossroads demon I know. He… wants to help.”

“Yeah. Ruby says that, too. But she couldn’t help me save Dean.”

“Dean was going down, Sam. There was no stopping it. We all tried.”

“ _Did_ you? Because while me and Bobby were trying to keep him from being taken, you weren’t around much!”

I turn a glare on him. “Yeah, what did you expect me to do, Sam? Stick around and be the rope in your little game of Tug-of-War? I heard your thoughts in Lincoln, Sam, and in Elizabethville. You think I’m yours, but Dean’s the one that actually _wanted_ me for something more than my body. He wanted me to have something _real_. I heard his thoughts, too.” I roll my eyes. “I tried. If I could have kept him from going to Hell, I would have.”

“You think I only want you for your-”

“I’ve _heard_ your thoughts, Sam!” I exclaim. “It’s all ‘Mine’ this and ‘Don’t touch her’ that. You haven’t had those complimentary thoughts since before that night in Lincoln. It’s all possessiveness and-”

“You’re supposed to be mine.”

“Just because Azazel wanted me to be your queen and right-hand woman doesn’t mean-”

“Yes, it does!” His hand shoots out and grabs my hair, pulling me closer. He’s breathing hard, his breath smells like whiskey, and his mind has that swimmy feeling of drunkness coming back, and maybe I’m getting a contact high from his mind, because the way he’s looking at me makes me feel swimmy, too. “You are mine. Not Dean’s. Not your traveling salesman and not that fucking demon’s. Understand?”

I open my mouth to respond but he crashes our faces together, biting my lips and licking into my mouth. His free hand grabs at my waist, pulls my shirt up. I whine and pull away. “Not out here, Sam. Inside,” I whisper. I entwine my fingers with his and pull him toward the front door. He stumbles but he doesn’t fall this time. I push him to sit on the couch and he pulls me to straddle his lap.

 **Mine**. There’s no yielding in the thought. No question. He’s resolute.

I nod. **Yours**. I push the word into his head. It’s been a while since I’ve done it and I don’t know if it works, but he seems to get it.

He grabs my head with both of his large hands and pulls me into another harsh kiss. He moves to bite my neck and shoulder and the pain zings through my body, settling into a throbbing between my legs. **Tell me about the blood. Tell me what you can do.**

I moan as he keeps attacking my skin with his mouth and teeth. “It started w-with the te-telepathy and… _fuck_ , Sam.” He growls into my neck and I whimper. “Um, the-the telekinesis came back quick, too. And then… then the demon started to show me h-how to perform exorcisms with my mind.” He pulls back and looks into my eyes, questioning. “Yeah. It’s… kinda like what Ava was doing with the Acheri in Cold Oak. It’s like controlling them. I can force them out of their vessels and direct them back down to Hell.”

“And the vessel?”

“As long as the demon hasn’t ridden ‘em too hard, they live.”

“So, this crossroads demon has been helping you _save_ people?”

I nod. “He’s… he’s a demon, so he doesn’t do it for free,” I whisper, avoiding his eyes.

Sam’s jaw tightens. **Knew you were fucking him.** “Not anymore. If it’s really worth it-” he starts, grabbing my jaw and forcing me to look at him. “-we’ll find another demon to get the blood from.”

“We?”

He slips his hand in my pocket and pulls out the bottle. “Show me,” he says twisting the top off and offering the bottle to me.

I swallow, nervously, and take it from his hand. “I started with one drop.” I dab a drop on my finger and show it to him. “That’s all it took at the beginning. I need a lot more _now_ , but… that first drop, I could hear everything again.” I lick my lips as his eyes focus on my bloodied finger.

“How fast does it work?”

“Few minutes… but the powers, they take _work_. Just like when Azazel was still around, it takes effort. It takes time,” I answer.

“Do you think we could use this, the powers, to get Lilith?” His mind flashes to Lilith, in Ruby’s vessel, letting in the hound that tore Dean to pieces.

“Yeah. The demon said that eventually they’ll be strong enough to _kill_ demons, but the amount of blood I’d need to drink to get there would be-” He cuts me off by licking my finger into his mouth. He sucks hard on my finger before pulling it from his mouth and grabbing my hips.

I set the bottle on the coffee table and turn back to Sam. It doesn’t take long for his pupils to shrink and his breathing to go hard. I remember this feeling, this very first high. Everything is enhanced, everything is lovely and scary. His fingers tighten around my hips. “This… is…” he starts.

I nod. **I know, Sammy.**

“We’re gonna need more,” he growls.

“Yeah.” The word is just a breath as he starts to pull at my clothing.

“You’re gonna help me avenge Dean.” He pulls my shirt over my head and drops it to the ground next to the couch. It takes just a few minutes for him to have me folded in half on his lap, my feet on his shoulders and his cock buried in me, thumb rubbing my clit. “You’re gonna teach me how to use those powers… and we’re going to _kill_ Lilith.”

“Yes. Yes.” I’m shaking. He’s barely moving inside of me, just rocking me on his lap, but it feels so good just to be so fucking full of Sam. “We’re gonna kill Lilith.”

“Good girl, y/n.”

He starts bouncing me on his cock and I feel so fucking small with how he’s manhalding me and my eyes roll back in my head. I start rambling out ‘fuck’ and ‘yes’ and ‘oh, god’, but Sam doesn’t say a word. His mind is full of those possessive thoughts. He’s thinking about killing Lilith, yes, but he’s thinking about how I take him so perfectly, how I’m made for him, how we were supposed to be together. He thinks about how he wishes he had met me without Dean and John, how he wishes he didn’t have the memories of watching them fuck me, but eventually comes to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter. John and Dean are dead. I’m his.

 **I’m yours**. I think at him through my moans.

“No more demon dick,” he growls and I nod. “Mine.” He twists and lays me down on the couch, hammering into me like he’s gonna win a prize. He cums quickly, the enhanced sensation from the demon blood high overwhelming him. He pulls out and kisses me before looking in my eyes. “When can we start?”


	7. Power and Positivity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some Ruby x Reader x Sam in this. Just feel that needs some warning....

**Chapter Warnings:** Mentions of Blood Drinking, unprotected vaginal sex, femslash (oral sex, fem rec from fem), possessive!Sam, angst, jealous!Dean

* * *

“It’s not working,” Sam growls stomping over to the table and swiping a bottle of whiskey off.

“Well, maybe if you stayed sober for two fucking minutes you could focus on what you’re supposed to be doing,” I snap at him. He gives me his half-drunk bitch face and goes to twist the cap off. I put my hand up and his body freezes in place where I want him. “I told you that these powers take work.”

“I’ve _been_ working!” He’s struggling against me, against my powers, but it’s not going to work. He’s not strong enough yet.

“You’ve been _drinking_. You’ve been mourning, and I get it, Sam, I really do. I’m mourning, too. I suggested taking a few weeks to get through it but you insisted we start right away. So I need you to crawl outta the fucking bottle and pay a-fucking-tention.”

“Don’t know how I feel ‘bout you talking to me like this.” His voice is quiet and his mind holds no anger, so I let him go and pull the bottle through the air to my hand.

“I’m your queen, Sam. It’s my job to teach you and protect you… even from yourself, sometimes.” I set the bottle down and step past the demon Sam was _trying_ to exorcise and put my hands up to wrap around his neck and pull him down into a kiss. “Just give me some sobriety. Please. I can’t help you if you’re three sheets.”

Sam licks his lips and nods. “Yeah. All right.”

I smile softly and move back toward the demon. “Grab the flask for me, Sam. We’ll bleed this guy a little before I send him packing.”

“I wanna try again.” Sam grabs the flask I pointed at and carries it over to me. I pull the cap off, slice a knife across the demon’s arm, fill it to the brim with blood. I take a drink and shiver at the warmth of it sliding down my throat, go to my tiptoes and kiss Sam. My tongue slips into his mouth, transferring a bit of the blood onto his tongue.

He pulls back and licks his lips as he moves to stand in front of the demon. “Breathe. Concentrate. Reach out with your mind and find the corruption,” I coach. Sam follows to a T. His nose starts to bleed as the smoke-form starts pulling out of its vessel. A proud smile stretches across my face as the demon is forced out. “Now, tell it to go to Hell, Sam.”

The smoke swirls at our feet, but it doesn’t go anywhere. “Damn it!” Sam growls.

“It’s okay.” I send it packing and wipe the blood from under his nose with my sleeve. “You’ll get better. Just a little more focus and-”

“A little less booze. Yeah. Okay.” Sam checks the vessel for a heartbeat, but I can already tell that there’s no one home.

“Come on. Let’s get something to eat. We’ll take care of him when we get back, okay?” Sam nods, pulls out the keys to the Impala and wraps his arm around me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m nursing a cup of coffee in a diner, a plate of greasy over-hard eggs and hashbrowns in front of me, when I hear Sam talking across the building in the mouth of the hallway leading to the restrooms. He’s standing there, talking to a short brunette… a demon. Hello, Ruby. I raise my hand to my temple and think at him. **Come back to the table and bring Ruby.** Sam turns to look at me and nods before wrapping his hand around her upper arm and dragging her to the table. I smile up at her. She’s picked a pretty vessel. Flowing brunette locks, soft lips, a cute little nose. “Nice to meet you, Ruby. I’ve heard… _so_ much about you.”

“Y/n.”

“Have a seat.” I reach out and force her into the booth with my powers. Her eyes go wide as Sam smirks and boxes her in by taking the seat next to her. “What?”

“You have your psychic powers still? How?”

I chuckle and take a drink of my coffee. “You really should have gone to Crossroad Demon School before you started to try to convince Sam to use his powers. Crowley had me sold in two days.”

“Let’s not talk about Crowley,” Sam demands and I smile sweetly at him.

“Yes, _sir_. I was just saying… maybe Ruby would have done better at convincing you if she’d taken a ‘how-to’ in salesmanship.”

“I’m not a Crossroads Demon and I gave him every incentive to let me teach-”

“Well, I’ve been doing the powers thing for a while, and I’m doing just fine with the teaching, too, thanks.”

“ _But_ …” Sam starts. “We could still use you.”

“ _Use_ me?”

“He’s a big boy. He needs more blood than we can safely harvest from the demons we’ve been working on.”

Ruby looks indignant as she scoffs. “What, so you want to harvest from _me_?”

I shrug. “You’ve got more than enough to spare.” I lick my lips and lean forward. “And if you don’t want a ticket on the Bullet Train back down to the Pit, I’d play ball. I hear they don’t like you much down there, Rube.”

“Look, I am fine to help _Sam_ , but-”

“Then, you’ll be fine to help both of us,” Sam says, quietly and intensely.

“So, wait, you’re okay with this?” She turns to look at Sam. “You’re okay with the blood?”

“It’s a necessary evil,” Sam says through clenched teeth.

“Neither of us are really _happy_ about it, but what can we do?” I say.

Ruby looks from Sam to me and back. “Fine,” she bites out.

“Good girl.” I smile and Sam sends a smile across the table at me.

“Good _girls_.” Sam’s tone makes me shiver. I might have a leg up over the demon, but man, Sam is definitely in charge of me. Fuck. “Let’s eat and then we can start… working.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Working with Ruby is like pulling teeth. She’s such a bitch. Over the last three months, we’ve been butting heads. She likes the progress I’ve made with Sam, but she doesn’t want me to have _any_ credit for it. It’s all about _her_ blood and _her_ effort and how special _he_ is. She hates me. I feel the same about her. We’ve taken to beating the shit out of each other when Sam’s out of the room. It’s kinda cathartic, actually.

On September 18, the demons we’re tracking in Tennessee turn tail and head for Illinois. We find them in Pontiac and we set up in room 207 of the Astoria Hotel. Sam goes on a beer run and I flop down on the couch. Ruby’s glaring at me from across the room. “What now, bitch?” I ask.

“You should just go back to South Dakota. I can finish training Sam and you can go be somewhere else.”

I chuckle. “You really hate that I’m his right hand woman, don’t you?”

“You _fell_ into that role, you didn’t _earn_ it!”

“I earn it every day.”

“You aren’t the only one who sucks his cock, sweetie. I just don’t have to breathe when I swallow him down.”

I scoff. “And yet, I’m still better at it than you.”

Ruby launches herself at me and I use my powers to throw her to the ground. She sweeps my legs out from under me and pounces on me before I even register my new position on the floor. Her hand’s in my hair, yanking hard and bashing my head into the red carpet as I try to punch at her, kick at her, bite at her, something.

“ _Stop_.” Sam’s voice makes both of us stiffen, freezing on the spot. “I’m getting real sick of this fighting. You do this _every_ time I leave you alone together.”

“Maybe if the demon bitch would just fuckin’ leave after she’s been blooded, we wouldn’t _have_ this problem,” I bite out as Ruby releases my hair.

Sam drops the beers on the coffee table and wraps his hand around my biceps, pulling me to my feet. “You need to get along with her, y/n. She’s here to help us kill Lilith.”

“She started it,” I defend.

“Doesn’t matter. You need to work _with_ her. We both do.” He pulls me over to the bed and pushes me down. “We’re gonna do a little team-building exercise.”

“Sam,” Ruby and I say it at the same time, the same tone of questioning on the word.

**Calm down. Relax.** It doesn’t do much to help me, but I take a deep breath and look up at him. “Ruby, come take her clothes off,” he demands. My eyes go wide, but he just nods and the demon walks over to the bed. She pulls my shoes off first, then moves to unbutton my jeans. Sam’s eyes darken with lust as Ruby tucks her fingers in my waistband and starts tugging the jeans down my legs. **Gonna show this demon bitch her place. She’s here for _us_. Our service, our pleasure, our needs.**

**I understand. But-**

**No. She’s going to make you cum on her tongue and then I’m gonna fuck her… and then I’m gonna fuck you.** His eyes lock with mine. **Be good and I’ll let you cum on my dick.**

I bite my lip and nod as Ruby looks to Sam. “So, this is the team-building exercise, a threesome?”

“Yeah. Now, do what I said. Take her fuckin’ clothes off.” She moves quickly, pulling the rest of my clothes off and I’m left naked on the bed, staring at Sam as he runs his hand over his denim-clad hard-on. “Lick her cunt, Ruby. Mouth only. No hands. You can’t get her off with just your mouth, you don’t belong here.”

My mind flashes to John instructing Sam that night in my place. I don’t know if he did that on purpose or not, but I know Ruby takes it to be just the same challenge Sam did. Lips and teeth and tongue assault me and it’s good. _She’s_ good. She knows exactly what button needs pushing and when and it doesn’t take long for me to cum with a shout of ‘Oh, fuck’. Sam’s got her jeans around her ankles and his down his thighs before my aftershocks are even done.

“Keep going, make her cum again.”

“Okay, Sam,” she moans as he starts slipping his cock into her.

“You don’t get to cum, though. Not with the attitude you’ve been giving my girl.”

I bury my hand in her pretty brown hair and yank. Sam said show the bitch her place and I’m gonna fuckin’ do that. The rhythm of her tongue matches the rhythm of his hips and it gets me up to the edge quick, but I don’t fall over. I’m left languishing, yanking on her hair as I wait for that final push, which doesn’t come until Sam cums, filling her up with cum and she presses her tongue to my clit while moaning. He slaps her ass as he pulls out and I let go of her hair. He grabs my hand and pulls me off the bed, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

“This is my queen. _Your_ queen, if you want to continue on our team, Ruby. You’ll respect her. Understand.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Sam squeezes my shoulder. “Shower?”

I nod. “Shower,” I confirm.

Sam holds me, shampoos my hair, washes my back and kisses my neck and shoulders. “You okay with what just happened?” he asks, his lips skimming my shoulder.

“Why? You wanna make it a regular thing?” I ask, turning in his arms.

He smiles and presses his lips to mine. **Just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Want you safe and happy.**

“I am.” I smile and kiss him. “Safe and happy.”

“Good. Because… until Lilith is dead, Ruby is a part of our lives.”

“I know,” I whisper, with a nod. “I get it. I told you I’d help you with Lilith.”

Sam reaches behind me and turns off the water and we get out of the shower, pulling clean clothes on. I hear a knock on the door, but I don’t think anything of it until I feel two new presences. Sam exits the bathroom, padding toward his duffel bag. “Hey, is-” He stops and looks to the right. His eyes go wide and he swallows.

“Heya, Sammy.” Dean’s voice hits me like an electric shock. I step to the bathroom doorway, gasping when my eyes fall on Bobby Singer… and Dean… just standing next to Ruby like it was the most natural thing.

Dean’s focused on Sam as he steps past Ruby and closer to his brother. I’m in awe. It’s obviously Dean. I don’t hear anything demonic or monster-like in his thoughts, just love for Sam. Sam pulls a knife and attacks. Ruby screams, obviously going for the ‘innocent bystander’ gag. Dean dodges the knife and Bobby and I grab Sam’s shoulders, pulling him back.

“Who are you?!” Sam shouts.

“Like you didn’t do this?!” Dean shouts back.

“Do what?!”

“It’s him. It’s him. I’ve been through this already, it’s _really_ him,” Bobby urges.

**It’s really him, Sam!**

Sam’s body slowly starts to relax in our arms, but he’s still panting. “But…”

Dean gives a little scoff and steps cautiously forward. “I know. I look fantastic, huh?”

We let go of Sam and he moves to pull Dean into what looks like a very desperate hug. Bobby pats my shoulder. We all have tears in our eyes.

“So, are you, like… together?” Ruby asks, her ‘dumb bitch’ persona working.

“What?” Sam looks over at Ruby, taking a second to catch up to what she’s doing. Dean and Bobby don’t know this vessel. It’s better if she acts like some piece of ass and scrambles off. “No. No. He’s my brother.”

“Uh… got it. I… I guess. Look, I should probably go.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Sam nods.

Ruby closes the door and goes to pick up her clothes and Dean looks at me. Pain and relief fill him. “Hey, Boots.” **She stayed with him. Thank god.**

“Hey, Dean.” My throat closes around the words. He wraps his hand around my neck and pulls me into a hug.

**Stop**. Sam thinks at me as he pulls a shirt on and Ruby yanks her jeans back on.

I pull back from the embrace and smile up into Dean’s face. “Thank you,” he whispers. **Never gonna have her again. Damn.**

“It just kinda happened,” I whisper back.

“How long you been with him?”

“All summer.”

**Would she have let him do somethin’ to bring me back?** As Sam walks Ruby to the door, Dean raises an eyebrow and nods toward the demon. “So, all three of you, huh?”

I shrug. “Come on, Dean, you know I’m not opposed to threesomes and moresomes.”

“Yeah, but I never expected you to be into the whole ‘two chicks’ thing.” **Kinda hot.**

“Yeah, well… I can guarantee that she was not _my_ idea.” A feeling of discomfort radiates from Bobby. “But that’s not important.”

Sam comes back and sits down to tie his boots. “So tell me, what’d it cost?” Dean asks.

“The girl?” Sam chuckles. “We don’t pay, Dean.”

“That’s not funny, Sam,” Dean shakes his head, slightly. “To bring me back. What’d it cost? Was it just your soul, or was it something worse?”

“You think he made a deal?” I ask.

“That’s exactly what we think,” Bobby says. “‘Less _you_ did, girl.”

“Well, we didn’t,” Sam and I say together.

“Don’t lie to me,” Dean says after a beat.

“I’m not lying.”

Dean pushes off the dresser and advances on Sam. “So, what? Now, I’m off the hook and you’re on, is that it? You’re some demon’s bitch-boy? I didn’t want to be saved like this!”

Sam stands, aggression pouring off of him, and Bobby and I move to mediate. “Look, Dean, I wish I _had_ done it, all right?”

Dean grabs Sam by the front of his shirt. I notice his knuckles are red, scraped and bruised. Oh, god. He had to claw his way out of the pine box Sam buried him in. “There’s no other way that this could have gone down. Now tell the truth!”

Sam pulls out of Dean’s grip. “I tried _everything_. That’s the truth. I tried opening the Devil’s Gate. Hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, all right?” Sam takes a deep breath. “You were rotting in Hell, for _months_. For months, and I couldn’t stop it. So, I’m sorry it wasn’t me, all right? Dean, I’m sorry.”

Dean nods. Sam’s face is hard, regret radiating off of him. “It’s okay, Sammy. You don’t have to apologize. I believe you.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m gladdened that Sam’s soul remains intact, but it does raise a sticky question,” Bobby starts.

“If he didn’t pull me out, then what did?” Dean turns his eyes on me. “Wasn’t you, either?”

I chuckle. “Nah, baby. You’re amazing and all, but once I got back in with Sammy, I focused all my energy on keeping _him_ going.” **Stop flirting with him.** Sam demands without even looking at me. I swallow and lick my lips. Maybe I should just leave like Ruby did. I look at my feet and take a step closer to Sam.

**What the hell?** Dean thinks. A pang of hurt hits him as Sam wraps his arm around me and kisses the top of my head. **Oh, yeah. She’s his.** “Why don’t you grab everybody a beer, y/n?” Sam suggests.

I nod. “Yeah, okay, babe.” I step over to the mini-fridge and pull out four beers. Bobby sits on the couch, Dean the coffee table, and Sam on the edge of the bed. I hand a beer to each of them and move to sit next to Bobby.

“So, what were you doing here if you weren’t digging me out of my grave?” Dean asks.

“Well, once I figured I couldn’t save you… um, I started hunting down Lilith, trying to get some payback.” Sam takes a drink of his beer.

“All by yourself.” Bobby starts. I see Dean’s eyes drop under the bed. Ruby’s bra. “Who do you think you are? Your old man?” Bobby admonishes.

“I had y/n… and I’m sorry, Bobby.” Dean stands and walks over to pick up the bra. “I-I should have called. I was pretty messed up.”

Dean holds the bra up. “Oh, yeah. I really feel your pain.” His eyes snap to mine. “This yours or, uh, Kristie’s?”

“Not mine. I don’t do pink.”

He examines it closer, then shrugs. “Yeah, it’s about two cup sizes too small for you, anyway.”

Sam feels a spike of anger at Dean commenting on the size of my tits, but he ignores it as Dean sets the bra aside and sits next to him. “Anyways, uh, we were checking these demons out of Tennessee and, out of nowhere, they took a hard left, booked up here.”

“When?” Dean asks.

“Yesterday morning,” I answer.

“When I busted out.”

“You think these demons are here ‘cause of you?” Bobby asks. Dean gives a ‘maybe’ look.

“But why?” Sam asks.

“Well, I don’t know- some badass demons drags me out and now this? It’s gotta be connected somehow.”

“How you feelin’, anyway?”

Dean tilts his head. **Anxious, tired, hungry, freaked the fuck out, havin’ trouble being in the room with y/n.** “I’m a little hungry.”

“No, I mean, do you feel like yourself? Anything strange, or different?”

“Or _demonic_?” **Jesus Christ!** “Bobby, how many times do I have to prove I’m _me_?”

“Yeah, well, listen, no demon’s lettin’ you loose out of the goodness of their hearts. They gotta have something nasty planned.”

Dean looks down and sighs. “Well, I feel fine.” He takes a drink of his beer and shakes his head.

“Okay, look, we don’t know what they’re planning. We got a pile of questions and no shovel. We need help.”

“I know a psychic. A few hours from here. Something this big, maybe she’s heard the other side talking.”

“Hell, yeah, it’s worth a shot,” Dean responds, but Sam and I both feel the same kind of apprehension about meeting with a psychic. What if she knows? About the blood, about Ruby, all of it.

**We’ll have to guard our thoughts.** I think at him. He gives an almost imperceptible nod as Bobby stands.

“I’ll be right back.”

Dean stands too and Sam follows. “Hey, wait. You probably want this back.” I close my eyes and bite the inside of my lip as he pulls out the amulet necklace from inside his shirt. He’s been wearing it all summer. I’ve been trying to ignore it, but sometimes… sometimes I focused on that amulet, imagined it was still around Dean’s neck, that Dean was the one holding me.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Sam takes a deep breath. “Hey, Dean. What was it like?”

“What, Hell?” Dean stumbles over his next words but I don’t hear them. I’m getting flashes of meathooks and flame, pain and anger and blood curdling _screaming_. Nothing fully formed, more of that ‘trying to hide it from himself’ thinking he’s so good at, but it hurts. I wanna cry, but I also want to pick up a knife and start carving someone up. I gasp and the brothers both look at me. “You okay, Boots?”

I nod, but I’m most certainly not. I think Dean just said he doesn’t remember Hell, but he definitely does. “Yeah. Headache. You still got the aspirin in your bag, Sam?”

“Yeah.” I move for the bag as Dean steps away into the bathroom. “What was that?”

“He remembers Hell, Sam,” I whisper.

“You saw it?” He kneels down next to me.

“Just flashes. He’s really trying to bury it, but… I…”

“What’s wrong?”

I shake my head, I can’t look in his face. “What if… what if we end up there?”

“Why would we?”

“What we’re doing with Ruby? What I did with Crowley? Sam, I… I can’t… I can’t. If that’s what’s waitin’ for me, I-”

“Calm down, baby. We’re not going… and Dean’s not going back. Okay? Everything’s okay.” Sam gently grabs my chin and forces me to look into his eyes. “I’m going to keep you safe, y/n. Safe and happy.”

“Maybe I should go home, Sam. Since Dean’s back… you-you don’t-”

“I _do_ need you, y/n.” Sam pulls me into his lap and buries his hand in my hair, pulling me into a kiss. **Stay.**

The bathroom door opens and I expect Sam to pull away but he doesn’t. He pulls me closer, a show of dominance, another possessive motion. I could pull away, but I don’t. I bury my hands in his hair and pull him harder against me. I can’t have Dean back. I know that. We were a pipe dream from the beginning. I’m supposed to be with Sam.

**Shit**. Dean’s thoughts ring with loss, but he just clears his throat. “You two wanna stop lickin’ each other’s tonsils so we can get outta here?”

We pull away from each other and I scramble off of Sam’s lap. “Sorry ‘bout that, Dean.”

“I’m sure I’ll get used to it,” Dean mutters, picking up his jacket and pulling it back on. “Let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She’s about four hours down the Interstate. Try to keep up,” Bobby says, heading for his Chevelle.

“I assume you’ll want to drive.” Sam tosses the keys to Dean, whose eyes are glued to the Impala.

Dean chuckles as he catches the keys. “Oh, I almost forgot!” A real feeling of happiness comes over him as he runs his hand across the body of the car. “Hey, sweetheart, did you miss me?” Sam and I get in the other side of the car, him in the front and me in the back. Dean’s eyes are on the iPod that I told Sam was a disrespectful addition. “What the hell is that?”

“That’s an iPod jack,” Sam answers.

“You were supposed to take care of her, not douche her up.”

I make a little humming noise. Sam gives me a side-eye glare and sighs at Dean. “Dean, I thought it was my car.”

Dean sneers a little and turns the car on. One of Sam’s indie pop songs starts playing. Dean rolls his eyes and turns to glare at Sam again. “ _Really_?”

**Don’t you dare blame me.** I think at Sam, who just shrugs. Dean rips the iPod out of the jack and tosses it in the back with me. I pick it up and start shuffling through it. “You know, you could’ve just changed the song, Dean. He’s got an entire playlist on here of stuff you’d like.”

Dean looks in the rearview mirror at me. “Does he?”

“Yep. Third playlist from the top.” I say, handing the iPod forward again. Dean takes it from my hand and takes a look at it while he waits for the turn onto the Interstate.

He smiles as his eyes fall on the playlist. He clicks on the ‘Jerk’ playlist and his eyebrows raise. “Zeppelin, Metallica, Sabbath. This is a good list.”

“Told ya.”

“Maybe the iPod isn’t completely douchey.”

**Thank you.** Sam thinks, turning to look at me. I nod and lean back against the door as Dean set the iPod back in the jack, but doesn’t plug it in.

“There’s still one thing that’s botherin’ me,” Dean says later.

“Yeah?” Sam responds.

“Yeah, the night that I bit it. Or… got bit.” He chuckles, but there’s a terrifying flash of the Hellhound ripping him apart that makes me flinch. “How’d _you_ make it out? I thought Lilith was going to kill you.”

“Well, she tried. She couldn’t.”

“What do you mean, she couldn’t?”

“She fired this, like burning light at me, and… it didn’t leave a scratch. Like, I was immune or something.”

“Immune?” **That’s not good, is it? It’s the psychic shit, isn’t it?**

“Yeah. I don’t know who was more surprised, her or me. She left pretty fast after that.”

“Huh.” Dean sighs. “What about Ruby? Where’s _she_?”

“Dead,” Sam lies. “Or in Hell.”

Dean bites his lip. **Just ask about the psychic shit. Don’t be a coward.** “So, either of you been using your, uh, freaky ESP stuff?”

“No.” Sam and I say it at the same time.

“You sure about that?” Dean challenges. “Well, I mean, now that you’ve got ‘immunity’, whatever the hell that is… just wondering what other kinda weirdo crap you’ve got going on.”

“Nothing, Dean. Look, you didn’t want me to go down that road, so I didn’t go down that road. It was practically your dying wish.” I didn’t know that. Fuck, now I feel even _more_ guilty… and so does Sam. Neither of us ever thought we might have to explain ourselves to Dean.

**God, I hope he’s tellin’ the truth.** “Yeah, well, let’s keep it that way.” Dean focuses back on the road. His eyes drift to the rearview. **She looks good. This is probably awkward for her. Sam’s probably not happy about it, either.** “So, you said you’ve been with Sam all summer. How’d that… did you _find_ each other or-”

“He came to my place. After he struck out at the crossroads.”

“And you’ve just been chasing Lilith around for four months?” **Between the crazy-awesome sex.**

His jealousy is painful. “No. I mean, we’ve been _focusing_ on demons, but we’ve done some other hunts.”

He nods. “Well, now we’re gonna focus on finding out what pulled me out of Hell and why.” He refocuses on the back of Bobby’s car, but his mind drifts. Not to sex, to us cuddling in the afterglow, both of us knowing it’s our last time together, knowing that we’re not going to see each other again. Tears sting my eyes and I have to close them and look away. This is going to be so fucking difficult.


	8. Psychics and Spirits

**Chapter Warnings** : Blood Drinking, possessive!Sam, angst, jealous!Dean, mutual pining

~~~~~~~

It’s morning by the time we get to the psychic’s house. I’ve been working to cut my thoughts off all night but I keep getting distracted by Dean’s. Flashes of hellfire, thoughts of love lost with me, a hundred different ways he’s trying to distract himself including reciting Zeppelin lyrics and debating the different meanings of said lyrics with himself. The man’s a master of burial. Maybe I’ll just echo his thoughts to keep the psychic out of my head.

Bobby knocks on the door and a tall brunette with muscular arms and piercing eyes yanks the door open and greets him with a smile. “Bobby!” She pulls him into a hug and lifts him off of his feet. Damn, she is strong for a human.

“Yeah, I am,” she says and my eyebrows shoot up. “I work out. So do you, right?”

“Um…yeah. Hi. y/n.”

She nods. “Yeah, I know. And these are the boys.”

“Sam, Dean. This is Pamela Barnes, best damn psychic in the state,” Bobby introduces.

“Hey.” **She’s hot. Strong. Maybe I can have some fun, get y/n outta my head. Might be as good.**

“Hi,” Sam says, awkwardly. **Can she hear me? Can you hear me?** I sigh and roll my eyes, slightly. That’s such an idiot thing. **Don’t roll your eyes at me. I was just testing it.**

She makes a humming noise as she steps in front of Dean. “Mmm-mmm-mmm. Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back in the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual.”

“If you say so,” Dean responds, nodding.

“Come on in.” Pamela nods at the inside of her house and we head inside.

“So, you hear anything?” Bobby asks.

“Well, I Ouija’d my way through a dozen spirits. No one seems to know who broke your boy out, or why,” she answers.

“So, what’s next?” I ask.

“A seance, I think. See if we can see who did the deed.”

“You’re not gonna…summon the damn thing here?” Bobby says, apprehensively.

“No. I just wanna get a sneak peek at it,” she says, walking toward Bobby. “Like a crystal ball without the crystal.”

Dean watches her leave the room, eyes on her ass. **Nice, tight ass.** “I’m game.”

Bobby and I move to the windows, pulling the curtains closed as the psychic sets the table up for the seance. Dean asks about the tattoo on the small of her back and she responds with sexual aggression that Dean just eats up. I’m simmering with anger as I listen to their flirting and when she says “You’re invited too, Grumpy,” to Sam I lose it.

“Grumpy’s taken,” I spit. All eyes turn on me and I take a deep breath.

“You can’t have them both, sweetheart,” Pamela whispers in my ear. “And if you don’t want me in your head, maybe you should stop projecting your loss so hard, huh?”

I shake my head and exit the living room to lean against the front door. I can’t do this. I can’t handle all this guilt and loss and pain and shame. I can’t.

“You okay, girl?”

My eyes snap to Bobby, walking out of the living room. I lick my lips and take a deep breath. “Yeah,” I lie.

“Come help me grab something outta my Chevelle.” Bobby’s tone doesn’t allow for argument. I follow him out to the beat-up car and wait. “I’ma ask again. You okay, girl?”

I lick my lips and look back at the psychic’s house. “No. This is…it’s too much, too big, I can’t…I can’t do this.”

“‘Too much, too big’ from the girl that helped us with the Seven Sins, who signed up to help Sam take down Lilith? What’s this really about?”

I sigh. “It’s Dean. And Sam. I…with them it’s…it’s complicated with them and I…I’m with Sam, now, and I think I was always supposed to be, but-”

“You wanna leave?” Bobby asks, looking into my eyes.

My lip quivers and I shake my head. “Sam doesn’t want me to leave, but…”

**She just listens to whatever Sam says now?** “Do _you_ wanna leave?”

“That’d be like running. But I just…I can’t sit in there and listen to Pamela and Dean flirt with each other. I know it’s hypocritical because Dean’s had to see me and Sam together since last night, but…I can’t.”

“All right. Well, you look exhausted so why don’t you take a nap? I’m sure we can do the seance with four people.” Bobby tosses me the keys and I give him a look of gratitude. I didn’t sleep on the way here, haven’t slept since we were in Tennessee and I can’t imagine that’s helping me much.

I wake to screaming. I might not have been particularly fond of Pamela Barnes but she didn’t deserve to have her eyes burned out by whatever the hell Castiel is. Bobby follows the ambulance to the hospital and Sam, Dean and I go to lunch. Seems callous, but a girl’s gotta eat.

Sam takes a phone call to talk to Bobby, leaving Dean and me at the table. “So, that nap…” Dean starts but he cuts himself off. **She was just tired.** “Hell of a way to wake up, right?”

“Sure it was worse for her.”

**She looks sad**. “Are you okay, Boots?”

I lick my lips and look over at him. I miss him. I want him. I’m exhausted and I want to go home…but more than any of that, I’m sick to my stomach. “Yeah. I’m good,” I say as the waitress walks up.

**Liar**. “We’ll have three slices of the blueberry pie.” She writes it down and walks away as Sam walks up. “What’d Bobby say?”

“Pam’s stable…and out of ICU.”

“And _blind_ because of us,” Dean continues.

“And we still have no clue who we’re dealing with,” Sam finishes.

“That’s not entirely true,” I respond.

“No?” Sam asks, turning to look at me with his eyebrows up in that ‘do you even know what you’re talking about’ way.

“You got a name, right? Castiel, or whatever. A name’s a powerful thing,” I say, tapping the table.

Dean’s eyes light up a bit and it’s beautiful to feel the bit of hope that pulses from him. “She’s right, with the right mumbo-jumbo we could summon him, bring him right to us.”

“You guys are crazy. Absolutely not,” Sam argues. **Stop encouraging this idea. It’s insane.**

“We’ll work him over. I mean, after what he did?” Dean’s still on it, even as I back off of the idea.

“Pam took a peek at him and her eyes burned out of her skull, and you want to have a face-to-face?” Sam bitches.

“You got a better idea?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do. We followed some demons to town, right?” Sam starts.

**So?** “Okay?”

“So, we go find them. Someone’s gotta know something about something,” Sam finishes as the waitress returns with three plates of pie. “Thanks.”

She sets the plates down and flops down in the chair opposite me. Dean scoffs and smirks at her. “You anglin’ for a tip?”

“I’m sorry. Thought you were looking for us,” she says and her eyes flood with black. All three of us tense as we look around. The cook and the man at the counter are demons, too, and the bigger one stands to lock and block the door. “Dean. To hell and back. Aren’t you a lucky duck?” the demon at the table with us says.

**Lucky? Sure.** “That’s me.”

“So you get to just stroll out of the Pit, huh? Tell me. What makes you so special?” the bitch asks.

“I like to think it’s because of my perky nipples,” he jokes, but a flash of crisis runs through him. **Nothing. Not a damn thing. I deserve to be down there.** “I don’t know. Wasn’t my doing.” **I don’t deserve it.** “I don’t know who pulled me out.”

“Right. You don’t,” she bites out, disbelieving.

“No. I don’t.”

“Lying’s a sin, you know.”

**The bitch doesn’t know who pulled me out, either.** “I’m not lying. But I’d like to find out, so if you wouldn’t mind enlightening me, Flo…”

“Mind your tone with me, boy. I’ll drag you back to Hell, myself,” she threatens and Sam and I both move to attack, but Dean puts his hand up to stop us.

“No, you won’t.”

“No?”

“No. Because if you were you would have done it already. Fact is, you don’t know who cut me loose. And you’re just as spooked as we are. And you’re looking for answers.” The demon looks away from Dean, a definite feeling of ‘I’m not going to agree with you even though you’re right’ radiating off of her. “Well, maybe it was some turbo-charged spirit. Or, uh, Godzilla. Or some big bad boss demon. I’m guessing at your pay grade that they don’t tell you squat. Because whoever it was, they _want_ me out. And they’re a lot stronger than you.” The demon swallows, heavily. “So go ahead. Send me back. But don’t come crawling to me when they show up on your front doorstep with some Vaseline and a fire hose.”

“I’m gonna reach down your throat and rip out your lungs,” the demon threatens, but Dean just smirks.

He’s not even thinking as he leans forward, looking right in its face, and slaps his right hand against her cheek. I gasp as she just sits there and takes it. She just glares at him. So he slaps her again and all she manages is to sit there looking flustered. “That’s what I thought. Let’s go.” We stand and I focus on the demon blocking the door as Dean pulls out a ten dollar bill and drops it to the table. “For the pie.”

It’s not until we’re heading out the door that Dean realizes how bad that could have gone, his thoughts becoming a jumble of anxious energy and stress, fear of going back to Hell swirling everything together and making me almost nauseated.

“Holy crap, that was close!” Dean says as we cross the street outside of the diner.

“We’re not just going to leave them in there, are we, Dean?”

“Well, yeah, there’s three of them, probably more, and we’ve only got one knife between us.” **Not a winnable fight.**

“We’ve been killing a lot more demons than that lately.” I roll my eyes at Sam. Because of course that’s not suspicious.

“Not anymore. The smarter brother’s back in town.”

“Dean, we’ve gotta take ‘em. They are dangerous.”

“They’re scared,” Dean argues. “Okay? Scared of whatever had the juice to yank me out. We’re dealing with a bad mofo here. One job at a time.”

“That bitch just sat there, Sam. They obviously aren’t-” I start, but Sam cuts me off with a glare.

**We’re gonna go back tonight and exorcise them.** Sam thinks. I shake my head. **Did you just tell me ‘no’?**

**We can talk about it later, Sam.** I think back.

**We can talk about it now. What, Dean’s back and now you don’t want to listen to what I have to say?**

I groan and Dean turns to me. “You okay, y/n?”

I nod. “Yeah. Totally,” I say climbing into the back of the Impala. **I’m not going to fight with you telepathically. It already hurts my head. We’ll talk when we get back to the motel.**

Sam sneers at me all the way back to the Astoria, making Dean wonder where the sudden aggression is coming from. Dean heads into the room but Sam pulls me into a housekeeping closet down the hall. “What the fuck is your problem, y/n?” he growls, pushing me into the shelf holding all the cleansers.

“What, am I not allowed to _agree_ with Dean? I’m not allowed my own opinions and thoughts? Just because I’m your queen, I have to fall in line with everything you say?” I snap.

“There are dangerous demons right there in town. We could have pulled them, we _would_ have pulled them, if Dean hadn’t been standing right there with us!” He leans over me, trying to intimidate me. A shiver runs down my spine at the display, but I don’t back down.

“So? He’s right, Sam! They aren’t a danger right now! We have to figure out what-”

“They aren’t a danger right now, but what about tomorrow? What about yesterday? They’re demons! They don’t deserve-”

“So is Ruby!” I whisper furiously. “You let _her_ live! You let her have your cock. You let her have-”

Sam’s hand shoots to my neck, wrapping easily around the column of my throat. “You belong to me. You’re mine, y/n. If I want Ruby to lick your cunt, she will. Now, I’m going to-”

Sam’s back hits the door before he can tighten his grip or finish his sentence. I hold him in place against the wood with my powers. “I think you forget who the fuck I am, Sam,” I say, words even and cold as they leave my mouth. “I guess I’ve forgotten, myself.” I step closer to him. “So much guilt over the blood and powers and outliving Dean…both of us got so caught up in it, that and the need for revenge.”

He’s seething at me. “You’re going to leave me,” he bites out.

“No, Sam. I’m your queen. But I’m not your possession.” I sigh and reach up to cup his cheek. “I need to be able to disagree with you. I need to be able to have my own ideas. I have to be able to agree with Dean without you freaking out on me.”

Sam takes a deep breath. “I understand. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

I release him and he slouches, pulling me into a hug and kissing the top of my head. I melt into it. For all the possessive bullshit Sam thinks and does, he’s still got a complete mastery over the comforting embrace. “Let’s go hit the books, Sam.”

Dean thinks about the fact that he’s glad Sam and I have stopped with the PDA as we walk into the room and when we start to get sleepy, I make sure to lie down as close to the edge away from Sam as possible.

**Wait, are they fighting?** Dean thinks as he looks over at me from the sofa bed. **Are they fighting ‘cause of me? Shit, I don’t want them fighting ‘cause of me.**

“Good night, boys. Don’t stay up too late with those books, huh?” I whisper as I let my eyes drift closed.

“Sounds like a sexy night to me,” Dean responds. Sam just nods.

This time I wake to radio and television static. Dean wakes just after me, rubbing at his eye with the backs of his fingers. As soon as he sees the television on, his mind flashes to a gas station in the middle of nowhere, a sound that shattered glass…Castiel. He rolls off the bed and grabs the sawed-off next to the pull-out bed and I pull my pistol out from under my pillow and roll to stand next to him. 12:30am and the right side of the bed is empty. Where the fuck is Sam?

Dean asks the same question in his mind, but doesn’t dwell on it as he moves toward the door with his shotgun raised. A high-pitched noise rings through the room and Dean and I both flinch, then cover our ears. As glass starts to break throughout the room, windows and mirrors both fracturing with the intensity of the sound, I hear a voice. Or maybe it’s not a voice. Maybe it’s just a _feeling_ of something loud and powerful calling Dean’s name.

I don’t have time to worry about it because the window glass starts bursting, raining down on us as we drop our weapons. Dean looks up at the mirror on the ceiling and grabs me, shielding me from the shards as they start to fall. We fall to the ground, glass slicing our forearms and hands as he lays over me to protect me. I slap my hands over his ears as he holds himself up over me. **Fuck! No, she-** He shakes his head to try to get my hands off of him, but quickly loses his train of thought as the mirrors on the wall start blowing. I hold onto consciousness just long enough for Bobby to break down the door and shout Dean’s name.

I come to as Dean and Bobby set me on the back seat of Bobby’s Chevelle. “What the hell were you thinking?” Dean growls at me as Bobby pulls out of the parking lot.

“That you couldn’t cover your own ears while you were shielding me from the mirror?” I groan.

“Yeah, and you couldn’t cover _your_ ears while covering mine!”

“Stop being mad about me saving your brain from liquefying,” I say, sitting up and looking at him. He’s trying not think about how he doesn’t deserve me risking my brain for his, but obviously he’s not burying that well. “My eggs can stand up better to scrambling than yours, Winchester. Don’t worry about it.” I reach down and grab a rag off the floorboard and start to wipe blood from his face.

He gives me this look of pure adoration and loss as he grabs my free hand and starts looking over the superficial wounds there. **This isn’t fair. Why’d she have to listen to me about Sam? Why couldn’t she have been stubborn and waited for me? Oh right ‘cause you’re a disaster, Dean. You’re lucky she spent the time she spent with you.** “We’re gonna have to clean these, but they shouldn’t scar.”

“I’ll be fine, Dean. Don’t worry about it.” I hand him the rag and sit back against the seat. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. He doesn’t hear me, his ears still ringing, but Bobby does. He looks in the rear view mirror to see us.

“How you doin’, kid?”

“Aside from the church bells ringing in my head? Peachy,” **Gotta call Sam.** Dean thinks before pulling out his cell phone and dialing Sam’s number.

_“Hey.”_

“What are you doing?”

_“Couldn’t sleep, went to get a burger,_ ” Sam says. It’s a lie. I think he went to the diner. I’m sure he’s with Ruby.

“In my car?”

_“Force of habit, sorry. What are you doing up?”_

“Well, uh, Bobby’s back. The three of us are going to grab a beer,” Dean says, holding up a finger to silence my protests at the lie.

_“All right, well, uh, spill some for me, huh?”_

“Done. Catch you later,” Dean says before hanging up.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell him?” Bobby snaps.

“Because he’d just try to stop us,” Dean responds leaning forward to look at Bobby.

“From what?”

“From summoning the thing,” I answer, knowing exactly where he’s going with it. I lick my lips as he nods. “So, what, we face the thing head-on?”

“Exactly.”

“You cain’t be serious!” Bobby practically shouts.

“As a heart attack,” Dean confirms, smiling. **Let’s get this shit over with.** “It’s high noon, baby.”

“Well, we don’t know what it is. It could be a demon, i-it could be anything,” Bobby argues.

“That’s why we gotta be ready for anything,” He pulls Ruby’s knife and shows it to Bobby. “We got the big-time magic knife, you’ve got an arsenal in the trunk, three hunters to deal with it…”

Gonna get us all killed. Bobby thinks. “This is a bad idea.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t agree more, but what other choice do we have? Boots and I almost died back there.”

“We could choose life,” Bobby spits.

“Bobby, whatever this is, whatever it wants, it’s after me. Well, I’ve got no place to hide. I can either get caught with my pants down again, or we can make our stand.”

“Dean, we could use Sam on this,” Bobby tries.

“Nah, he’s better off where he is.”

I roll my eyes at that. He’s with Ruby. Of course he’s better off there than with us having windows explode on us or summoning whatever the fuck we’re about to summon. We don’t even know what it is and Dean’s thinking about whatever it is dragging him back down and I don’t understand why he suddenly feels so undeserving of something so basic as _life_.

Bobby finds up an empty metal barn and starts to put up runes and talismans to trap the thing. Dean and I start emptying the trunk of all of Bobby’s weapons and books. On the last trip, I put my hand on his shoulder and turn him to look at me. “Dean, are you okay?”

His mind flashes to an image of kissing me, pulling me into his arms and pushing me against the side of Bobby’s car. He chases the thought away with the memory of me and Sam kissing in the motel. “Yeah. I’m good. Let’s just get this done,” he says, leaning into the trunk to grab the last set of books.

“Dean, wait a minute, please.” He sighs and turns to sit on the edge of the trunk, looking up at me. “I’m sorry.” It’s all I can think to say, honestly. I can’t explain why, I can’t convey the amount of pain I’m in at his pain, so I just apologize.

Dean bites his lip and looks away from me. “You don’t have to be sorry, Boots. Never apologize for bein’ happy.”

“What if I’m not?” Why am I doing this? Why am I speaking? This is a betrayal, pure and simple. I am betraying Sam by saying it…but fuck, Sam said he wanted me safe and happy and, right now, I’m neither of those things.

**Don’t tempt me. God, don’t fucking tempt me.** “Y/n, you can’t say that. I mean, you’re…you’re with Sam and he’s obviously kept you happy enough to stay with him for all these months.”

“Sam and I needed each other, Dean, because you were gone. But you’re…you’re not gone, anymore.”

Dean stands and looks down at me. “You’re better with Sam. You’ve been with him for four fuckin’ months. You’re happy. Right now, you’re confused because I just came back from Hell and everything’s weird, but you’re happy with Sam. Just…stay with Sam.”

I close my eyes and nod. “Yeah. I’m just confused. I’m gonna go help Bobby.”

“Good idea.”

I help Bobby put the finishing touches on his traps and Dean sets up every weapon he can think to use and then Bobby and I speak the Latin summoning spell and…nothing happens. We wait…and wait…and wait, Dean and I avoiding looking at each other, Bobby wondering what to do about the tension in the air. Eventually, Dean jumps up on one of the tables and Bobby jumps up on the other. I pace by the entrance to the barn.

“You sure you did the ritual right?” Dean asks. I can feel Bobby’s indignation from across the barn. “Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?” It’s almost on cue that the siding and roof start to rattle. I rush toward the back of the barn, shotgun held chest-high. **Fuckin’ finally!** “Wishful thinking, but maybe it’s just the wind.”

I sigh. “Not fuckin’ likely.”

The door pushes open, the beams we used to hold it closed splitting in half like they’re nothing. A man with wild hair and a business suit with a trenchcoat over it walks in, but it’s not a man. No way is this thing a man. The light bulbs shatter in the fixtures over his head as he moves closer, sprinkling glass over him and sending sparks through the air. The creature doesn’t flinch.

He walks through the traps, doesn’t even acknowledge our salt rounds, or the actual bullets from my pistol, so Dean picks back up Ruby’s magic knife as it gets closer. “Who are you?” Dean demands.

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,” Castiel responds and Dean thinks about the handprint on his arm. Castiel’s handprint.

“Yeah. Thanks for that.” Dean plunges the knife into Castiel’s chest and it doesn’t make a bit of difference. Castiel looks down at the knife and just nonchalantly pulls it out and drops it to the fucking floor. Bobby and I attack, but Castiel grabs our weapons and pulls them from our hands, dropping them to the floor with the knife. He presses two fingers of each hand to my and Bobby’s foreheads and everything goes dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Because it’s impossible! I refuse to believe a goddamn _angel_ -”

“He definitely wasn’t anything we’ve seen _before_ , kid. The way he came in here, shrugged off everything we ever-”

“Why is she still out?!”

I groan in response to Dean’s words and go to sit up, eyes refusing to open. “I’m okay.”

“Bobby’s been awake for twenty minutes. We were gettin’ worried, sweetheart.”

“Guess I was more tired than the old man. Really should start the yoga again. Now, what was this about an angel?” I ask, finally getting my eyes to cooperate.

“Nothing. I’m not even gonna entertain-” Dean starts, but I get lost in his memories. A flash of lightning, the shadow of black wings against the wall of the barn, an awed feeling laced with fear. _“Right, and why would an angel rescue me from Hell?” “Good things do happen, Dean.” “Not in my experience.” “What’s the matter? You don’t think you deserve to be saved.”_ This creature, this thing that said it’s an angel, saw right into Dean just like I do.

“For fuck’s sake, Dean, what else could it be?” I snap. He’s so deep in denial that I don’t know what else to do.

“That’s what _I_ wanna know! There’s gotta be something else that coulda done this and we need to get back to Bobby’s house where the rest of the damn books are and figure this shit out!”

I sigh, looking to Bobby who just shakes his head. He’s not prepared to continue this argument. “Fine, but _you_ get to call Sam and tell him we summoned the thing and you don’t believe what it told you and we’re back on the fuckin’ research again.”

**Whoa**. Dean swallows heavily as I stomp away from him. “Boots!”

“Call Sam, Dean. Now!” I demand, heading out of the barn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why are you leaving?” Sam asks as I pull my duffel out of the back seat of Bobby’s car.

“Because home is three hundred miles West and I haven’t been there all summer,” I answer flippantly. Dean and Bobby are watching from the library window and i’m trying to not make a big deal of it.

“Why are you _really_ leaving?” Sam demands in that ‘I own you’ voice.

I turn to him and lick my lips, maneuvering us so that our onlookers can’t see my face. “You left me alone in our bed to go do something I opposed with a bitch I hate! You weren’t there when the room fuckin’ exploded on your brother and me. You weren’t there when this…this _thing_ walked in, all power and grace. You weren’t there because you were with _Ruby_ ,” I growl up at him. “And now there are angels on the playing field, Sam. Dean’s back from Hell, there are angels involved and we’ve been drinking demon blood. I need a few days to get my head on right and I can’t do that here.”

“Why not? Because De-”

“Because _you_ make me forget who I am!” I shake my head and look up into his eyes. “And if you can’t stop bringing everything back to Dean, I’m not going to be okay. Maybe you need to get your head on right about Dean being back, too. Some time might help with that.”

Sam’s face softens and he puts his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

I nod. “I’m still leaving.” I step away and sling the strap of my duffel over my head. I wave at Bobby and Dean and head out of the salvage yard.

I make it home in seven hours. Hitchhiking is easy for a woman, especially one like me. I walk the two miles down my dirt road, listening to the birds chirping at me, wondering when exactly my whole life flew off its axis.

Azazel. When he showed up in my dreams way back when I was still a teen, that’s when my life started going crazy. Fuck. Why couldn’t he have just left me the fuck alone?

“Well, that’s an awful big pity party you’re throwing, y/n,” a familiar voice says just as I enter my house. I turn to the sound and gasp. My father is sitting on my couch.

“Dad?” I squeak.

“You remember me? Wow, I thought maybe the blood you’ve been drinking took your memory. Why else would you neglect to tell me about Azazel and the war he started?” He stands, moving closer, and I freeze. Every piece of my hunter training is telling me to grab salt, grab iron, do _something_ , but…it’s my dad. I can’t move against him. “The war that got me killed. Killed by a demon just like the ones you’ve been spreading your whore legs for.”

My jaw drops and tears well up in my eyes. “Dad, I-”

“They ripped me to pieces, y/n. They tortured me in ways you can’t even imagine…while you were calling a demon ‘Daddy’ and getting high on its blood.”

The guilt I feel is incomparable. It wasn’t bad enough that the demons targeted him because of me, I had to call Crowley ‘Daddy’, too, didn’t I? Tears roll down my cheeks and my lip trembles as Dad suddenly flickers in front of me and wraps his fingers around my throat. “Da-ad…” I struggle out.

“Don’t worry, y/n. I’m sure they’ll let you into Heaven, even with demon blood flowing through your abomination veins. They’ve let-”

A loud bang echoes in my ears just as they start to ring with pressure and I pull in a frantic gasp of air as Dad disappears. I turn my head to my kitchen entrance, where Crowley is standing with one of my shotguns. “Well, yer gonna have to break that Devil’s Trap _now_ , aren’t you?”


	9. Addicts and Angels

**Chapter Warnings:** Blood Drinking, angst, mutual pining

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Crowley?! What are you doing here?! What is going on?”

The demon rolls his eyes and pumps my shotgun again, cracking off a shot that scatters my father’s spirit as soon as it reappears. “You really want explanations right now, pet? Or do you wanna go down to the bloody basement and break the damn Devil’s Trap?!” he shouts.

I run for the basement staircase, jumping the railing and pulling my knife as I duck under the wooden slats and drop to my knees, scraping the blade along the edge of the spray paint keeping Crowley trapped in my house. The demon appears beside me and grabs my arm, the world spins, my stomach flips and my head feels like it’s going to explode. When I look up, we’re in a lavish, well-furnished office. Crowley sets my shotgun on the desk and walks toward a small bar in the corner.

“Scotch?”

“Where are we?” I snap, looking around. “And why was my dad trying to kill me?”

“He obviously blames you fer his death. Were you not paying attention?” He turns to me and offers me a crystal tumbler of scotch. “An’ this is my home. Warded against angels and lower-level spirits, so yer dad and Dean Winchester’s newest butt buddy won’t be able to find you here.”

“You know about the angel?” I ask, taking the glass and knocking back half of the liquor in one gulp.

“Of course I know about the angel. Who do you think yer talkin’ to?” I roll my eyes as he sits in a plush leather desk chair and sips at his own drink. He looks across the room at me, a bit of a smirk on his lips. “You don’t call, you don’t write. A demon might get the idea you don’t like ‘im, anymore.”

“I never _liked_ you, Crowley. I tolerated you and I used you. Nothing more.”

“I seem to remember a _lot_ more, actually. We shared a bed on many occasions, y/n,” he says, the smirk growing on his lips.

“I haven’t forgotten, but my boyfriend told me to stay away from you so…”

“And where’ve you been getting yore fix from?” he asks and I roll my eyes.

“Various places, but mostly this little bitch named Ruby.” I take a deep breath. “My dad loved me. Even if he’s upset about how he died, he wouldn’t try to kill me over it.”

“Under normal circumstances, sure, but he’s bound to be a little extra tetchy since he got pulled outta Heaven by Lilith.”

My eyes go wide. “He what?” I sit in the chair on the opposite side of his desk. “Lilith pulled him out of Heaven? How could she even _touch_ him up there?”

“She didn’t need to touch him up there, darling, just down here. Didn’t go down to Peru and give ‘im a hunter funeral, did you?”

I swallow. I hadn’t had the time or emotional strength to do it. “You know I didn’t. You were with me when I got the call,” I whisper.

“I remember. You were adorable trying to remember Spanish while trying not to cry.”

I shake my head and drain the tumbler. He leans forward and pours more scotch into the vessel. “So, what’s the point? Send my dad to kill me ‘cause I was supposed to be queen?”

“I’m sure that’s a bonus but no, the _point_ is the Rising of the Witnesses.”

My heart stops. I know that event. I’ve memorised Revelations. “No,” I whisper.

“Yes,” he confirms. “She’s trying to bring Daddy home.”

“But he’s not real…is he?”

Crowley rolls his eyes and sighs as I take another drink. “Don’t be daft,” he says and I feel a little relief until he continues. “Of course he is. You really think the other angels are real but Lucifer’s not?”

I feel a bit dumb at that. I believe Castiel immediately but I scoff at the idea of the Devil? Why? I down the rest of the scotch and set the glass down on his desk. “She’s gonna end everything. Lucifer will end everything.”

“Yeah. What are you gonna do to stop ‘er?”

I shake my head. “Me?”

“Yes. _You_. Azazel’s intended Queen of Hell. How are you going to stop her breaking the Seals on Lucifer’s Cage?” He sits forward and looks at me with whiskey-colored eyes.

“How _can_ I stop her? This is Lilith we’re talking about, Crowley.”

“Her powers don’t work on you, Baby Girl. But yours? Yours would work on her and you’ve had plenty of time to hone them, with or without my help.”

Realization hits me like a ton of bricks. “You knew she was planning this. You were training me to take her down.”

He sighs and leans back in his chair. “I can’t do it. Much as I’d love to off that bitch, I’m never going to be strong enough. I might be King of the Crossroads, but I’m still _just_ a crossroads demon. _She’s_ the first soul Lucifer ever corrupted. I can’t compete. You, though…” He stands and walks around the desk to stand in front of me. “You can take her down.”

I shake my head. “No. It’s gotta be Sam.”

“No. It’s gotta be _you_ ,” he insists. “If you want to stop the _Apocalypse_ , it has to be you.”

He’s adamant about it, a serious edge to his entire being. I don’t know why I believe him, he’s lied to me in the past, but I do. I believe it has to be me. “What…why _not_ Sam?”

Crowley sighs and runs his hand across his face. “I can’t explain. Just know that Sam Winchester would just make things worse. You need to leave him and his little black-eyed whore out of it.”

“How am I supposed to track down and kill Lilith without Sam knowing? He’s my-” My phone goes off in my pocket and I pull it out. “-boyfriend. Bobby’s calling. Keep your trap shut.”

He nods and I answer the phone. “Yeah, Bobby?”

“Thank God yer okay! We got problems, girl. There’s spirits attacking hunters. I’ve called three other hunters, yer the only one answered.”

I sigh. Of course other hunters got spirits aimed at them, too. “I’m ghost-proof right now, Bobby. I’ve got wards in my basement,” I lie because I can’t say I’m in a demon’s mansion.

“Lucky you. Look, do me a favor, huh? Stay there until I call you with the all-clear.”

“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “Keep our boys safe too, please?”

“Of course, kid. I’ll call.”

Bobby hangs up and I turn to the demon. “Help me end this.”

“Yer not strong enough, yet.” He picks up my glass and I watch as it fills with blood. “No bullshit, no manipulation, no quid pro quo. I’ll give you what you need to end her, no strings.”

My mouth waters at the sight of all that blood, readily available, right fucking there. “I’m not fucking you,” I say, leaning forward. “I’m with Sam.”

“You don’t even like him,” Crowley argues, but he hands the glass to me without a fight.

“I love him.”

“That’s why you want Dean so much, because you love Sam?”

I ignore the question as I start drinking the blood, letting the copper and sulphur taste coat my tongue and throat. It’s a good question, though. If I love Sam, why _do_ I want Dean so damn much?

I moan, deep in my throat, as the blood takes effect. I slouch in the chair and move my heavy hand to set the glass on the desk, but Crowley pushes it toward my mouth. "Drink it all. You’ll have to get used to taking in more an’ more of it, y/n. That’s nothing compared to the amount yet gonna have to drink to put down Lilith.”

I sigh and look at the glass. It’s not like it turns my stomach anymore. It’s not like I hate how it tastes or how it makes me feel, it just…seems like I should moderate my intake. But if I’m going to have to drink a significant portion to stop the End?

I tip the rest of the blood into my mouth and gulp it down. “Salud.”

“Cheers,” he responds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the next morning, Bobby’s called to tell me things are good. I stay with Crowley, working on beefing up my powers and my intake. Dean calls me as I’m pulling all of Crowley’s servants out of their vessels, and I mean _all_ of them. Every demon besides Crowley in a half mile radius gets pulled. I feel powerful and nigh unstoppable…until I answer the phone.

“You fucking lied to me!” He doesn’t even say 'hi’ first.

“What?!” I squeak, shocked.

“Sam’s been running around with _Ruby_! He’s been using his powers and fucking around with a demon and you were with him all fucking summer so there’s no way you _missed_ that. You’ve been using them, too, haven’t you?” **Fucking liars. I asked one thing of Sam before I died and this is-**

“Yes,” I answer, mostly because I don’t want to hear the rest of that thought. “Yes, I have and yes, I lied. I didn’t think you’d take it very well and it looks like I was right.” I send all of the demons back to their vessels and flop down on Crowley’s sofa.

“Don’t act like I’m being unreasonable or something, sweetheart! This shit is dangerous! You really think it’s a smart move to-”

“Dean, sometimes life isn’t about making the smart move. Sometimes life is about doing the thing that’s gonna cause the least amount of damage.” I can see a flash of Sam saying ‘ _What I do, most of them survive_!’ from Dean. “It’s not like we just decided to throw in with Ruby without thinking about it. I hate that bitch, man, and if it were up to me we wouldn’t have.”

“Why isn’t it up to you, huh? Why would you let Sam convince you to do this? You’re smarter than that. You’re smarter than _him_.”

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Sam didn’t convince me, Dean. I came to the idea on my own. I was already-”

“Don’t say that. Don’t say you were already using your powers again when I went to Hell,” he growls into the phone. I don’t respond and the silence drags a bit. “Can you hear my thoughts? _Could_ you hear my thoughts in Illinois?” he whispers and all the pain he’s been hiding bubbles up.

“No,” I lie again because I don’t want him to feel so fucking exposed. “The powers don’t work the same since Azazel died. I can’t hear you, Dean. I wish I could.”

**Wish I could trust that she’s telling the truth.** “S-Sam and I, we’re hitting the road again. I think it’d probably be the best thing…for everyone…if you stayed in Keystone. I know you probably wanna be with your boyfriend, but we’ve got bigger things going on. Castiel, he told me that Lilith is trying to…she’s trying to start up the end of the world, bring Lucifer out of his Cage in Hell. I need Sam to focus,” he says. **I can’t focus with you here…and I can’t trust either of you.**

“I understand. I’ll take my freak show on the road, do my own hunting. I’ll stay out of your way and you guys can…be the Winchesters again.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll talk to-” he starts, but I interrupt before he can get off the phone.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Boots?”

I lick my lips. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

“Which everything?” He sighs into the phone. “Lying? Using the powers we’ve always agreed were dangerous and scary? Not telling me that the tiny brunette in the hotel was actually a demon?” **Letting Sam own you and order you around when all I want is to love you?**

“‘Everything’ means everything.”

“Right. Well…stay away from Ruby…and Sam, for now.”

“I understand. Keep Bobby updated…he’ll tell me if there’s anything I need to know.”

“Yeah.” He hangs up the phone and I put mine back in my pocket.

“It’ll be worth it,” Crowley says, appearing in front of me.

“I’m glad you’re so confident,” I snap.

“Yore already stronger than any of Azazel’s other Children ever were. Yore getting stronger by the day. Now’s not the time to start doubting.”

“I’ve been doubting since the first drop of blood, Crowley. This is nothing new.”

“You just have to trust me, darling.”

I shake my head. “Trust you. You’re a demon and you manipulated me into having sex with you for months. Trust?”

“I’m not manipulating you _now_. And you liked it.”

I sigh. “I’m going to bed. Have Charles bring me some coffee in the morning.”

“Yes, my queen,” he responds, smirking as I walk out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve been with Crowley for about six weeks when Sam calls. I’ve been kept up-to-date by Bobby, but neither brother has called, neither has said a word about Seals that they couldn’t stop from breaking or a wishing well that actually lived up to its name. I know about other Seals breaking, more than they do. It helps to have an inside demon.

“Hey, we need help,” Sam says when I answer. **Angels and demons, she’s not gonna want to help.**

“I haven’t heard from you in about two months and you want my help?” I bite out.

“Look, I’m sorry about that, okay? It’s just…I was trying to fix things with my brother. You’re a…sore spot. A-and I stopped with the-” His voice drops to a whisper. “-the blood. I thought you might-”

“Be a bad influence? Get you hooked again? Fuck you, Sam. I didn’t want you to do it in the first place. You _demanded_ the powers.”

“I know, but-”

“And, you know, you’re supposed to let a woman know when you break up with her. You aren’t supposed to just stop talking to her.”

“I’m not breaking up with-”

“Whatever, dude. What do you need?”

He sighs. “Ruby put us on this hunt, a prophet named Anna Milton. She can _hear_ the angels. So, the angels want her dead and the demons want her for information. Dean and Ruby are taking her to Bobby’s house. I have to grab the Impala but I could get you on the way back.”

I sigh. “Yeah. Fine. How long ‘til you hit Keystone?”

“Four hours.” **Why’s it matter? What’s she doing?**

“I’ll see you then.” I hang up the phone and walk off to Crowley’s office. “I need you to take me home. Sam’s gonna be at my place soon, I have to be there.”

He nods and grabs my hand, spinning the world around until we arrive in my living room. He hands me a large bottle that I know is full of blood and disappears. I look down at myself. I have to take clothes with me next time I get caught at Crowley’s. I mean, the designer shit he puts me in is pretty and this MINKPINK body-con dress looks amazing on me, but it’s not something I can hunt in.

I shower, change into hunter-appropriate clothing, put on a little bit of makeup and wait for the sound of the Impala. I don’t wait for him to knock when the car pulls in, sliding into the passenger seat before he has a chance to kill the engine. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says, tentatively.

“Just drive, Sam. There’s a prophet who needs our help.”

“We’re not sure she’s a prophet, but she’s definitely privy to things she shouldn’t be. Hey,” he says, leaning over and grabbing my chin to make me look at him. “I’m sorry about how we left things.”

I chuckle. “You mean how _I_ left things. I left, Sam. You didn’t call me but…” I shake my head, loosing my face from his grip. “It’s fine. How’s Ruby?” I ask.

“I haven’t been seeing her. I told you…I’m done with the blood and-”

“Yet, Ruby is with Dean and this Anna chick on their way to Bobby’s…so obviously you’re not done with _her_.”

He rolls his eyes and puts the car in Drive. “She came to us with information on Anna, that’s all.”

I shake my head. “Yeah, that’s all. I’m _sure_.”

“Just…grab the folder and look over the files for Anna and her family. Please?” I reach down to the floorboard and pull the manila folder out of his backpack, flipping it open. **Wonder if her powers are still working. Mine have been waning since she’s been gone, since Dean caught me with Ruby. Can she hear me?**

I don’t respond, looking through the medical reports. I haven’t had Ruby’s blood since Illinois and that was long enough ago that I shouldn’t still have the abilities. “This Anna chick has been in a psych ward before the one she just escaped. Looks like she was a frequent flyer when she was two, convinced her father was trying to kill her.”

“Read to me,” Sam flicks his eyes from the road to the paper and I twist away from him.

“Eyes on the road, Sam. I’ll read.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam walks into the house and calls out for his brother. “Hey! Dean!”

I lean against the wall in the study and steel myself to see Dean. I tell myself no jealousy, no pining looks, this is just another job, but as soon as I hear his voice my stomach weighs down with anxiety.

“How’s the car?”

“I got her. She’s fine. Got y/n, too, for extra muscle. Where’s Bobby?”

“Uh, The Dominican,” Dean answers as they walk into the kitchen. His eyes flick to mine, then away. **Don’t look at her eyes.** “He said we break anything, we buy it.”

“He’s working a job?” I ask.

**Fuck, I’ve missed her voice.** “God, I hope so. Otherwise, he’s at Hedonism in a banana hammock and a trucker cap,” Dean answers, still avoiding looking at me.

Sam winces, thinking of that picture. “Now that’s seared in my brain.”

“All right, what did you find on Anna?” Dean asks.

I swallow heavily and hand Sam the manila folder with the medical records. “Uh, not much. Her parents were, uh,” Sam flips the folder open.

“Rich and Amy Milton, a church deacon and a housewife,” I continue for him.

“Riveting,” Dean drawls out.

“Yeah. But there is something here in the report. Turns out this latest psych episode wasn’t her first,” Sam says as Dean starts reading over the file.

“No?”

“When she was two and a half, she’d get hysterical any time her dad got close. She was convinced that he wasn’t her real daddy.”

“Who was?” Dean asks. “The plumber? Hmm? A little snaking the pipes?” He smirks as his mind flashes to an image of a porno. Then his eyes catch mine. **Wish she’d smile. She’s so pretty when she smiles. Don’t, dumbass.** He shakes his head at himself.

“Dude, you’re confusing reality with porn again,” Sam says and Dean raises his eyebrows. “Look, Anna didn’t say. She just kept repeating that this real father of hers was mad. Very mad- Like, ‘Wanted to kill her’ mad.”

“Kinda heavy for a two year old.”

“Well, she saw a kids’ shrink, got better, and grew up normal,” I say, licking my lips.

“Until now. So, what’s she hiding?” Dean asks.

“Why don’t you ask me to my face?” a voice by the staircase asks. My eyes fall on Ruby and a skinny redhead with her arms crossed over her chest. When her thoughts hit me, they echo around my mind like an old speaker. **How-ow can-an this-is get-et worse-orse?**

“Nice job watching her,” Dean spits.

“I’m watching her,” Ruby responds.

“No, you’re right, Anna. Is there anything you want to tell us?”

**No.** “About what?”

“The angels said you were guilty of something. Why would they say that?” Sam asks.

“You tell _me_. Tell me why my life has been leveled. Why my parents are dead. I don’t know. I swear. I would give anything to know.” I look at my feet, trying to block out Dean’s fond thoughts of the girl. He doesn’t just feel bad for her…he likes her. Great. Not only do I have to deal with Sam and Ruby, now I have to deal with Dean and Anna. I’m fifth-wheeling my boyfriend _and_ his brother.

“Okay. Then let’s find out,” Sam suggests.

“How?” Anna asks.

“We know a psychic, Pamela. Dean could go get her and we’ll have her dig up the answers,” Sam says.

“That’s a great idea. I’ll go with Dean to pick up the sightless seer,” I volunteer.

**Is this revenge?** “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I mean, I think it’d be-” Sam starts but I shake my head.

“You and Ruby stay here and protect Ginger, Dean and I will protect Blind Mag. Two and two, it’s even.” I shove my hand in Sam’s pocket and grab Dean’s keys, tossing them at the older brother and walking out of Bobby’s house without waiting for anyone’s approval.

Dean slides into the car behind the wheel and heads off without a word. He puts on one of his cassettes. It would be cute, how he’s humming to the song as he thinks the lyrics, but I know it’s a tactic to keep from thinking and that’s not so cute. “Hey, Dean. Hit this rest stop for me.”

He sighs, cuts his eyes at me. “Fine, but we got angels on our ass so keep your piss break under five,” he says, pulling off the interstate.

I shake my head. “We don’t have Anna, the angels don’t care about us.”

**True**. “Yeah, okay, but still don’t take forever. Everybody’s waitin’ on us.”

“They can wait,” I say as he pulls into one of the spaces in front of the restrooms. “Besides, that’s not why I want you to stop.” I lean over and wrap my arms around him, burying my face in his neck. “I’m sorry.”

He’s stiff but his hands find my waist and his fingertips dig in like he can’t help but hold me. “What are you doing?”

“Come on.” I pull back just slightly and look up at him. “Don’t tell me you’re so deprived of affection that you don’t recognize a hug.”

He rolls his eyes. “ _Why_ are you hugging me?” He pulls away but I keep my arms wrapped around his neck.

“Because I missed you…and I’m sorry for lying to you about the-”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says, but the pain of betrayal radiates from him.

“Yes, it does,” I whisper, moving my hand to cup his cheek and turn his face toward me. He leans into it, then shakes his head to get the touch off of him.

“You can’t do this, y/n.”

“Why not?” I lean closer, his fingers tighten on my waist.

**Because I won’t be able to stop if-** “Because you’re Sam’s girl.”

“Barely. He’s seen more of Ruby over the past two months than he’s seen of me. Fuck, Ruby’s why I left, Dean.” His eyebrows twitch at the admission. “He was with Ruby when the hotel exploded, after I told him not to go after the demons at the diner, he went anyway. He doesn’t respect me. He doesn’t listen to me. He doesn’t love me; he just… _has_ me.”

**Fuck. Don’t do this, Dean. You can’t do this. She doesn’t really-**

“Dean, kiss me,” I demand, softly. He resists for a moment, green eyes wide as he stares at my lips, but then he crashes his lips against mine, fingers skimming under my shirt to feel my skin, which starts to heat up as our tongues play in the space between our mouths.

**God, she tastes so good. Feels good. Why can’t Sam treat her-**

He pushes me away, with enough force that my back hits the passenger door. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-” **Fuck, I’m stupid.** “That was…I’m sorry.”

“Dean, I want it. I want _you_ , please,” I whisper. Dean shakes his head and puts the car in Reverse, heading back to the interstate and flicking the music up as loud as he can stand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I move to the back as Dean leads Pam to the car. We spend two hours with only the sound of Metallica pushing through the tension. I can feel her prodding at my psyche the entire time.

“Stay out of my head, Barnes,” I demand as Dean sets the gas pump and heads into the store for jerky.

“You’re still projecting loss. I was just trying to see if you’ve picked a brother yet.”

I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter what I pick. Ultimately, the Winchester brothers are only all-in for each other. No one else _really_ matters.”

“That’s a lot of bitter you’re swallowing. Need a drink to wash it down?” She offers me a flask and I take it.

“Thanks.” Maybe she’s not so bad.

“No problem. I’ve had my share of problems with dumbass men. If it’ll help, I won’t flirt with them.”

I take a swig of vodka and nod. “Actually, yeah. I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure. Anything for another badass psychic chick,” she says, smirking. My eyes widen but I don’t say anything. “Bobby told me that’s why you ended up with Sam, because you were both psychic a couple years ago.”

I hold back the sigh of relief as I hand the flask back. “It didn’t last.”

“Well, some pieces remain or you wouldn’t be able to feel me trying to get a read on your. Normal people can’t do that.”

“Can’t do what?” Dean asks sliding into the front seat.

“Tie a cherry stem with their tongue,” Pam covers. She’s definitely not so bad. “Y/n can.”

“So can I!” Dean smirks as he pulls out of the gas station.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t take long for Pam to help Anna remember who she is. An angel. She’s an angel who fell to Earth. Dean takes Pam home but this time I stay at Bobby’s. Sam and I go through a bunch of astronomy mags and find where her Grace fell when she pulled it and we pile into the Impala as soon as Dean gets back. But her Grace isn’t there. She’s not going to be able to ‘angel up’ as Ruby says. We’re fucked.

And I can’t do this. Sam’s whispering with Ruby in the corner of the barn we’re hiding in. Dean’s out in the Impala with Anna. He’s fucking a literal angel, one we’re all about to die for. And why? Why should I fucking die for Dean’s piece of ass? She _chose_ to fall. Why should we pay for her poor choices? I’ve got my own poor choices I’m still making payments on.

“I can’t do this,” I say, standing.

Sam and Ruby look at me, surprised by the sudden declaration. “What?” Sam asks.

“I can’t die for an angel who made her damn choice.” Pity flashes across his face. “No, see, I could stand behind keeping her out of the demons’ hands but this? The best way to make sure she doesn’t get grabbed by Alastair is for the angels to get her first.”

“We can’t let that happen, y/n.”

“Why? Because Dean’s got the hots for her?” I spit.

“Because she’s an innocent. She-” Sam starts, but I interrupt.

“No, she’s not! In this instance, _we’re_ the innocents.” I step closer to him and shake my head in disbelief. “She knew what she was doing. Lucifer’s greatest sin was disobedience, Sam. She _knew_ if she disobeyed she’d be lumped in the same ‘Kill On Sight’ group as the Morningstar. She made her choice. Why should we pay for it?”

“She’s right,” Ruby says.

“Oh, don’t agree with me, Ruby. It skeeves me out.”

“I’m just saying– Anna’s not some innocent human girl who got dragged into something bigger than her. She’s an angel playing at being an innocent girl. She made her bed, why _should_ we lie in it?”

“Maybe we just walk away,” I suggest.

Sam feels offended by the very idea for a minute before his brain calls forth a memory of watching an old Godzilla movie in a motel room with Dean and his eyes light up. “That’s it!”

“What’s what?” Ruby asks.

“We don’t have to do anything! Angels and demons are like Godzilla and Mothra, right? Both are a danger to us but they hate each other more. If we can get Alastair and Castiel at the same place at the same time-”

“They’ll take each other out!” I exclaim.

Sam nods, stepping closer to me. “In the very least, they could soften each other up enough for us to get away.”

“Or for us to fight. We could take out the leftovers,” Sam says, smiling.

“That’s genius. I shoulda thought of that.” But I was too busy being jealous of Anna to make sense of things.

“How do we get them in one place?” Ruby asks, her hands on her hips.

“We pray to the angels,” I suggest. “I’ll do it. They’ve believe it from me if I say I don’t want anything to do with Anna’s bullshit. ‘Come and get it’.”

“And who gets to grab Alastair’s attention?” Ruby asked. Sam and I sigh and give her a pointed look. “What, _me_?”

“You’ve got a reputation in Hell as being devious and cowardly,” I say, not letting on that I got that bit of information from Crowley. Her eyes narrow at me, but I shrug. “He’ll believe it from you, Ruby.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine.”

“What’s fine?” Dean asks, coming into the barn with Anna behind him. They both have a heavy feeling of satiation weighing them down. Fuck them.

Sam explains the plan and Dean and Anna both nod. “That sounds perfect. Sammy with the bright ideas! Tomorrow we’ll get this going,” Dean says.

I give a tight smile to the room and walk out of the barn. I don’t get in the car, I don’t want to smell the scent of their sex, but I drop to the grass next to the front passenger tire and lean back against rubber and dark metal.

“Hey.” Dean looks down at me. “You okay?”

“Sure,” I lie.

“You don’t look-”

“Less than twenty-four hours ago, you rejected me…guess you were saving yourself for the angel.” I look up at him. “It’s cool, D. No big. Go back in the barn. I’ll be in later.”

“You can’t just-”

“Go back inside, Dean,” I demand and he blinks a few times before walking away. I wallow in my self-pity for a while and eventually I fall asleep under the stars.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The actual fight lasts about five minutes and I stand by the wall and spectate as Alastair and the angel Castiel make a beeline for each other and Alastair seems to start to exorcise the angel. I didn’t even know angels could be cast from their vessels…not that I know a whole hell of a lot about angels. Dean rushes forward with a crowbar and bashes Alastair with it and the demon looks at him, wholly unimpressed with Dean and his weapon of choice, and says “Dean, Dean, Dean…I am so disappointed. You had such promise.”

**Promise?** Sam thinks, but Dean’s overcome with memories of Hell. This time it’s not flashes. This time it’s full-fledged imagery. This time it’s Dean standing over a slab in the Pit, a small scared woman begging him for mercy as he used a small, sharp knife to cut her eyelids off.

A wave of nausea hits me as I realize why he’s been feeling so unworthy of everything. They broke him in Hell, tapped into the sadism inside him. I guess none of us made it through the summer without fucking up.

Alastair attacks us but the demon doesn’t have a lot of time to dispatch us because Anna grabs the vial of her Grace from around Uriel’s neck and throws it to the floor of the barn. White light flows from the broken glass to her mouth and she glows for a second.

“Shut your eyes. Shut your eyes! Shut your eyes!” Anna shouts and we all bow our heads and cover up.

Alastair and Anna disappear in a flash of bright light. Dean taunts the Angel’s to “go get Anna, unless you’re scared” and they disappear, too.

**Oh, thank God.** Dean thinks as Ruby stumbles toward us.

“You okay?” Sam asks.

“Not so much,” she responds.

“What took you so long to get here?” Dean demands.

“Sorry I’m late with the demon delivery. I was only being tortured,” she says, her tone snarky. **–I do for her.** comes through from her mind. It doesn’t sound like her, maybe it’s how she sounded when she was alive.

Dean nods. **Maybe she’s not so bad.** “I gotta hand it to ya, Sammy. Bringing 'em all together all at once, angels and demons…it was a damn good plan.”

Sam smirks a little as he looks at me and Ruby. “Yeah, well, when you got Godzilla and Mothra on your ass, best to get out of their way and let them fight.”

**He’s so smart.** “Yeah, now you’re just bragging.”

“So, I guess she’s some big-time angel now, huh?” Sam muses. “She must be happy…Wherever she is.”

Dean shakes his head, thinks about Anna telling him why she’d rather be a human. “I doubt it.”

“Let’s just get the fuck outta here, huh?” I suggest, an edge to my voice. “I’m tired of old barn smell.”

“Yeah, good idea.” **Fuck, I’m sorry, y/n.** “I need a shower and a beer, probably not in that order.” Dean hides his pity well from the room, but I feel it. Fuck him. Fuck his pity. Fuck this whole situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam is sitting on the hood of the Impala, Dean and I are leaning against the side of the car, all three with beers in our hands. Dean’s mind is full, “You had such promise” playing on repeat.

“I can’t believe we made it out of there,” he says, psyching himself up to play Confession.

“Again,” Sam and I agree.

Dean holds out his bottle and Sam and I raise ours to clink the necks together. I down half of my beer as Dean looks off into the field we parked next to. “I know you heard him,” he finally says.

Sam flashes to Alastair in the bar, but he plays dumb. “Who?”

“Alastair. What he said…about how I had promise.”

“I heard him,” Sam confirms.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“You’re not curious?” **Neither of 'em?**

“Dean, I’m sure we’re both damn curious. But you’re not talking about Hell, and I’m not pushing.”

There is a moment where Dean’s thoughts are full of hellfire. “It wasn’t four months, you know.”

“What?” Sam exclaims, but I just look down. I know this one. Four months, that’s more than forty years in Hell.

“It was four months up here, but down there…I don’t know. Time’s different. It was more like forry years.”

“My God,” Sam whispers, turning to look at the back of his brother.

“They, uh…They sliced and carved and tore at me in ways that you…Until there was nothing left.” His memory of his torture in Hell is vivid and painful and it makes me flinch. “And then, suddenly…I would be whole again…like magic…just so they could start in all over. And Alastair…at the end of every day…every one…he would come over. And he would make me an offer. To take me off the rack…if I put souls on…if I started the torturing. And every day, I told him to stick it where the sun shines. For thirty years, I told him.”

He remembers when he said “yes” to Alastair. After so long in Hell, it was an unbelievable relief to let someone else feel it. And he felt guilty about that, about taking his salvation out on someone else’s soul. “But then I couldn’t do it anymore, Sammy. I couldn’t. And I got off that rack. God help me, I got right off it, and I started ripping them apart. I lost count of how many souls.” I watch a tear roll down his cheek and all I want is to hug him, kiss him, heal his pain. “The–the things that I did to them.”

“Dean…” Sam clears his throat. “Dean, look, you held out for thirty years. That’s longer than anyone would have.”

“How I feel…This…inside me…I wish I couldn’t feel anything, Sammy. I wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing.”

**What do I do?** Sam thinks, but I just surge forward and wrap my arms around Dean. I don’t say a word, I don’t look in his eyes, I just hold him and let his tears fall into my hair.


End file.
